
class _ ...v :: ±s&__ 

Book rV^Jga 

GojpglrtN°.._....i.a&2 L 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



RALEGH IN GUIANA 



RALEGH IN GUIANA 
ROSAMOND 

AND 

A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

BY 
BARRETT WENDELL 



NEW YORK 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 

1902 



Copyright, 1902, by Charles Scribners Sons 
Published October, 1902 






10 



THE LIBRARY OF 

CONGRESS, 
Tv«) Copies Recsiveo 

OCT. 9 1902 

COPVWOHT ENTRY 

fob <T-^<7 3- 

CLASS C^OOCa No. 
LP $> 2> °l 
COPY 8. 



D. B. Updike, The Merrymount Press, Boston 



CONTENTS 



INTRODUCTION 

RALEGH IN GUIANA 

ROSAMOND 

A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 



7 
15 

81 
97 



INTRODUCTION 

I 

A hese essays in dramatic verse are made in a 
manner common to all the Elizabethan play- 
wrights. The better one knows these writers, the 
better one understands that they were really 
translators into terms of speech and action of 
material which they found in narrative form. 
Among the reasons which moved me to attempt 
something in their manner was a desire, when I 
was lecturing about them, to study their practice 
experimentally. 

Yet no such reason often operates alone. Some 
years ago, a friend — then a young girl — asked 
me to make her a version of the story of Fair 
Rosamond. In so doing, I only turned to the 
ballad, as it stands in the old editions of Percy's 
Reliques, and swiftly translated the narrative into 
versified dialogue, with whatever alterations and 
additions chanced to occur to me. The dramatic 
scene which resulted was published in Scribners 
Magazine. 

My second essay in this kind of writing was 



8 INTRODUCTION 

made several years later, in 1896. Certain dis- 
putes about a work of art, at that time exciting 
local interest, had led some friends, in the warmth 
of discussion, to inform me that I was tempera- 
mentally inartistic. Stirred by this intimate frank- 
ness, I found myself eager to express, as well as 
I could, sentiments which had long been gather- 
ing about my thoughts concerning the character, 
the fate, and the historical significance of Sir 
Walter Ralegh. Accordingly, I turned to his Dis- 
covery of Guiana and his Apology, as they ap- 
pear in the eighth volume of his collected works ; 
to the Lives of him by Oldys and by Birch, in 
the first volume of this edition ; and to some oc- 
casional passages in his History of the World. 
With these pages open before me, and with va- 
rious other books at hand, I made of his story 
some such free version as I had previously made 
of Percy's ballad about Rosamond. Having com- 
pleted this, I proposed that it be performed at a 
small club, where the dispute which provoked it 
into being had arisen. There it was so far success- 
ful that we were invited to reproduce it more 
publicly. On March 22, 1897, then, my essay in 



INTRODUCTION 9 

chronicle-history had the honour of a Univer- 
sity performance, at Sanders Theatre, Harvard 
College. This performance derived special interest 
from the fact that we reverted to the stage tradi- 
tions of the Elizabethan theatre, and brought out 
my new-made scenes in a background and sur- 
roundings which had been prepared, some two 
years earlier, for the production, with approach 
to archaeological accuracy, of a play by Ben Jon- 
son. That Ralegh in Guiana so readily adapted 
itself to this unusual setting seemed to indicate 
that it possessed some trace of the spirit which 
had animated the old English theatre, thus ad- 
venturously mimicked. A few months later, it was 
published in Scribners Magazine, where Rosa- 
mond had preceded it. 

These two experiments in Elizabethan play- 
writing were wholly mine. The third illustrates 
another phase of Elizabethan work, so frequent 
as to make the actual authorship of almost any 
Elizabethan scene a fair matter for debate. Those 
old playwrights were not only translators; they 
were constant collaborators, too. Just how their 
collaboration took place three hundred years ago, 



10 INTRODUCTION 

no one now can quite tell. The collaboration 
which resulted in the Christmas Masque was 
frank and simple. 

At the club where Ralegh in Guiana was first 
acted, it has been customary to celebrate Christ- 
mas Eve by a dramatic performance, written an- 
nually for the occasion ; and these performances 
have assumed distinct conventional form. The 
first part is regularly given on the lower story of 
the club-house ; at its close, the whole company, 
led by the actors, ascend to a dining-room, where 
a Christmas dinner is served, during which — at 
intervals — the masque proceeds, and there are 
toasts, and songs, and a Boar's Head, and the like ; 
when dinner is done, the company are again led 
upstairs by the actors, and in a large hall above 
the masque is formally concluded. 

Last Christmas-tide, my friend, Mr. Winthrop 
Ames, conceived the most elaborate pageant on 
which the club has yet ventured. The club-house 
was to be transformed, by some ingenious scenic 
devices, into the likeness of a mediaeval castle; 
and the company, who were to assemble in cos- 
tumes of Crusading times, were not to be a mere 



INTRODUCTION 11 

body of spectators, but actually to participate, so 
far as aspect went, in the masque thus given. Mr. 
Ames thereupon devised and wrote out an elabo- 
rate plot; and professing, with justice, that this 
was quite enough to expect from any one man, he 
requested me to write the dialogue. Though he 
kindly gave me leave to treat his plot as freely 
as I chose, I found myself disposed to alter it 
very little. The resulting Christmas Masque, then, 
is Mr. Ames's in plot; in character, it is inex- 
tricably his and mine; and it is mine in phrase. 
Once more, though under different conditions, I 
found myself writing in the Elizabethan manner 
— not creating, but translating and collaborating. 

II 

Rosamond and the Christmas Masque must 
be their own excuse for being. With Ralegh in 
Guiana the case is somewhat different. The story 
which it sets forth, with such approach to fact as 
was common in Elizabethan chronicle-history, is 
one which has long seemed to me deeply sig- 
nificant. At the time when it was written, the 
Spanish War of 1898 and all the history which 



12 INTRODUCTION 

is ensuing were still to come. An earlier phase of 
the same world-question, however, — the dispute 
between England and America which arose over 
Venezuela, — was fresh in mind. And in the days 
when this had most troubled those of us who be- 
lieve the future to loom least dark in regions 
dominated by our own ancestral ideals, — by the 
traditions of right which spring from the English 
Bible and the attested rights asserted by Eng- 
lish Law, — I had grown more and more to long 
that fate had let Sir Walter hold his way three 
hundred years ago. With the foresight of a true 
statesman, he had instinctively felt how much 
must depend on the control of the American 
continent; and through all the complexities of 
his troubled and various life, he was true to his 
conviction that if England were to prosper, the 
career of Spain must be checked. 

In a note, prefixed to the play, I have set 
down such historical facts as need be in mind. 
The question was how to set these forth in a 
manner which should at once be within the 
limited powers of presentation afforded by the 
club for which I was writing, and vividly define 



INTRODUCTION 13 

the climax of this tragic recorded story. To do 
so it seemed to me that I had best surround 
Ralegh — a typical Elizabethan — with figures 
which should embody the forces to which he 
succumbed. First among these was the spirit of 
papal, continental Europe, incarnate in Spain; 
to represent this I had no scruple in transfer- 
ring Don Antonio de Berreo from the Guiana of 
1595 to that of 1618. More subtle than Spain in 
fact, though far less so in aspect, was the disin- 
tegrating decadence of English character which 
declared itself as the spacious days faded. From 
Ralegh's own records I took the brave, honest 
Keymis, incapable of independent action; from 
Mr. Tyler's eccentric but interesting edition of 
Shakspere's Sonnets I took the name of Pol- 
whele, which I chose for my type of the roaring 
adventurer; partly from Drummond of Haw- 
thornden's memoranda of his visit from Ben Jon- 
son I took the amiable, reckless young Ralegh, 
true at heart but fatally without the power of the 
elder time ; and from the by-ways of Elizabethan 
comedy I took the Boatswain, a man of the peo- 
ple in days when no man dreamed of democracy. 



14 INTRODUCTION 

And then, when I tried to combine these types 
of character in a composition which should ex- 
press, with substantial truth, a tragedy on which 
the fate of centuries has turned, there came a 
gladdening experience. These personages took on 
themselves what seemed an independent life. To 
me at least, they were no longer deliberately 
chosen types; they were rather actual individuals, 
whose thoughts were of their own making, not of 
mine. To me, then, this essay in chronicle-history 
became no longer ingenious but vital. Whether 
it can seem so to others, they must judge. If they 
find it so, and take pleasure, they may perhaps 
take in it such more lasting pleasure as should 
arise from considering how deeply this story has 
influenced our national history. 

B. W. 



RALEGH IN GUIANA 



NOTE 

feiR Walter Ralegh was born of a good Devonshire 
family in 1552. "Country gentleman, student, soldier, 
sailor, adventurer, courtier, favourite and spoilsman, colo- 
nizer, fighter, landlord, agriculturist, poet, patron of letters, 
state prisoner, explorer, conqueror, politician, statesman, 
conspirator, chemist, scholar, historian, self-seeker, and 
martyr to patriotism, he acquired through the latter half 
of Elizabeth's reign the most comprehensive experience 
ever known to an Englishman." 

The most serious motive of his life Ralegh states in the 
preface to his Discovery of Guiana, an account of his first 
voyage, in 1595, to the region now called Venezuela: "If 
we now consider of the actions both of Charles the Fifth 
. . . together with the affairs of the Spanish king now 
living, . . . how many kingdoms he hath endangered, 
how many armies, garrisons, and navies he hath and doth 
maintain; ... we shall find that these abilities rise not 
from the trade of sacks and Seville oranges, nor from 
aught else that either Spain, Portugal, or any of his other 
provinces produce: it is his Indian gold that endangereth 
and disturbeth all the nations of Europe; it purchaseth 
intelligence, creepeth into counsels, and setteth bound 



18 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

loyalty at liberty in the greatest monarchies. ... I have 
therefore laboured all my life ... to advance all those at- 
tempts that might ... be a let and impeachment to the 
quiet course and plentiful trades of the Spanish nation." 

Whether the regions which Ralegh explored in 1595 
were already in the possession of Spain is debatable. He 
always declared not, "because the natural lords did most 
willingly acknowledge queen Elizabeth to be their sover- 
eign, who by me promised to defend them from the Span- 
ish cruelty.''' 

The expedition of 1595 was not strong enough to do 
more than explore; nor was Ralegh able to fit out another 
during the lifetime of Elizabeth. What happened later is 
thus related by Carew Ralegh, his surviving son: "When 
king James came into England, he found Sir Walter Ralegh 
(by favour of his late mistress queen Elizabeth) lord warden 
of the stannaries, lord lieutenant of Devonshire and Corn- 
wall, captain of the guard, and governor of the Isle of 
Jersey; with a large possession of lands, both in England 
and Ireland. . . . But finding him (as he said himself) a 
martial man, addicted to foreign affairs and great actions, 
he feared lest he should engage him in a war, a thing most 
hated and contrary to the king's nature; wherefore he be- 
gan to look upon him with a jealous eye, especially after 



NOTE 19 

he had presented him with a book, wherein with great 
animosity he opposed the peace with Spain. . . . But Sir 
Walter Ralegh's enemies, soon discovering the king's hu- 
mour, resolved at once to rid the king of his doubt and 
trouble, and to enrich themselves with the lands and offices 
of Sir Walter Ralegh. Wherefore they plotted to accuse 
him, and the lord Cobham, a simple, passionate man, but 
of a very noble birth and great possessions, of high treason. 
. . . Sir Walter was condemned; ... all his lands and 
offices were seized, and himself committed close prisoner 
to the Tower.'" 

Here Ralegh remained, with a sentence of death in re- 
serve, from 1604 to 1616. During this interval he wrote 
his History of the World. At last, his son declares, "he 
found means to obtain his liberty, but on condition to go 
a voyage to Guiana, in discovery of a gold mine." The 
issue of this voyage is substantially set forth in the follow- 
ing pages. 

On Ralegh's return, he was arrested; he was executed 
on October 29, 1618. 

The closing passage of Oldys's Life of Sir Walter Ralegh 
completes the story: "King James, soon after Ralegh's 
execution, beginning to see how he was and would be de- 
luded by the Spaniard, made one of his ministers write to 



20 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

his agent in Spain, to let the state know that they should 
be looked upon as the most unworthy people in the world, 
if they did not now act with sincerity, since ... to give 
them content, he had not spared [Sir Walter Ralegh]; 
when, by preserving him, he might have . . . had at com- 
mand, upon all occasions, as useful a man as served any 
prince in Christendom.'" 



PROLOGUE 

JL onight, good friends, we come, as others came, 

To waken chords, half slumbering in your hearts, 
Of music like old music, that brought fame 

To players long gone to play unbodied parts. 
Like them we fain would please; still like them, too, 

We fain would summon back to earth once more 
Heroic elder days, else lost to view 

In musty tomes, recording deeds of yore : 
How Ralegh in Guiana strove with Spain, 

When all our Western World was yet unwon, 
Our play shall tell; nor shall the tale be vain 

If you, when these our fleeting acts are done, 
Remember, had Sir Walter held his way, 
Our country, with the world, were happier today. 



CHARACTERS 

SIR WALTER RALEGH 
YOUNG RALEGH 
CAPTAIN KEYMIS 
CAPTAIN POLWHELE 
DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 
A BOATSWAIN 

The scene is the cabin of Sir Walter Ralegh's ship, the 
Destiny, when she lay off the mouth of the Orinoco in 
the winter of 1617-18. At the back is a ladder, or sea- 
stairway, leading from the deck above. On either side are 
sea-chests, and between them a table, whereon, in the First 
Part, stand ajlagon of wine and cups. 



RALEGH IN GUIANA 

THE FIRST PART 

Enter, in dispute, Captain Keymis and Captain Polwhele. 

KEYMIS 

.Kalegh was never faithless! 

POLWHELE 

He is a man; 
What man was ever faithful, saving them 
That chance to die before their faith is broke? 

KEYMIS 

Well, sir, I '11 pledge mine honour — 

POLWHELE 

God be praised 
You keep it still to pledge ! 

KEYMIS 

Sir Walter gone, 
I am master here aboard. 

POLWHELE 

Ay; and are like 
To stay so. 

KEYMIS 

Then beware, sir, how you loose 
Your tongue again. Mine hair in youth was red; 



24 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

And though sea-salt encrust it now with gray 
The head beneath stays hot. 

POLWHELE 

Nay, Captain Keymis, 
You understand me not. 

KEYMIS 

Sir Walter 's gone, 
You said, and left us in a Spanish trap. 

POLWHELE 

Not I, not I, sir; 'twas but what the crews 
Are murmuring I told you. — Boatswain there! 

the boatswain, from the deck without 
Ay, ay, sir. 

POLWHELE 

Come within here. 

So from the deck comes the Boatswain, reluctant; and as he 
comes down the stairway Polwhele speaks on. 

Captain Keymis 

Would fain know how the sailors speak together. 

THE BOATSWAIN 

Very vilely, sir. When knew ye a company of men left 
by themselves but that straight they fell to talking bawdy? 

Then Captain Keymis, testily answering, sits him down on 
one of' the sea-chests; and on the other sits Captain Pol- 



THE FIRST PART 25 

whele; and the Boatswain stands between them, turning 
to one or the other as he speaks. 

KEYMIS 

To the point, Boatswain. Boy and man, thou hast known 
me, and Sir Walter too, this thirty year. 

THE BOATSWAIN 

Ay, sir, for very honest gentlemen. 

POLWHELE 

Speak now, telling in what respect this opinion of thine 
lacketh favour among thy fellows. 

THE BOATSWAIN 

Without offence, Captain Keymis? 

KEYMIS 

Unless thou liest. 

THE BOATSWAIN 

God forbid that I should lie if what they say be true; 
for they would have it that we be nearer Heaven or Hell, 
according to our deserts, than Christians love to be. 

POLWHELE 

He bears me out, you see. 

KEYMIS 

Be precise, Boatswain. 

THE BOATSWAIN 

Precise, Captain, as I understand the term, is as one 



26 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

should say, Be brief, short, not lengthy or without end. 
Marry, then, to be precise, and to waste no words and not 
unduly to take up time for which doubtless there should 
be more worthy business and occupation; in fine, to speak 
precisely — 

KEYMIS 

What then? What do the sailors murmur? 

THE BOATSWAIN 

Of yourself, sir, naught but good. 

KEYMIS 

And of Sir Walter Ralegh? 

THE BOATSWAIN 

Faith, Captain, what they say of Sir Walter I know not 
altogether. For there be many, not only of the Destiny 
here, but also of the Encounter, and of the Thunder, and 
of the Flying Joan, and of the rest of the fleet, which for 
preciseness I will not stop to name, with whom I have had 
no words. And of such matter a man can tell only what 
he hath heard with his own ears. 

POLWHELE 

Speak out, Boatswain, telling what thine own shaggy 
ears have heard concerning Sir Walter. 

THE BOATSWAIN 

Marry, sir, there be doubtless them that say how that 
salt meat breedeth scurvy, and that Sir Walter — mark 



THE FIRST PART 27 

you both, gentlemen, I say it not of mine own motion — 
hath eaten overmuch salt meat. 

KEYMIS 

Meaning thereby? 

THE BOATSWAIN 

Nay, Captain, who can tell what men mean? I can but 

guess that their meaning is as if one should say how that 

we be left here in these shallows to God's mercy; and Sir 

Walter gone not to return; and the old Spanish Don — 

him that was our prisoner in the Queen's time when we 

burnt their city of Saint Joseph — now no longer here a 

prisoner, but our master, waiting for force to put us all to 

the sword, even as we put his guard aforetime after that 

we had drunk them careless; and so no mines in the river 

save mines of powder that shall be the end of us — But all 

this I myself believe not, Captain Key mis, having trust in 

Sir Walter Ralegh and in you. 

Then very gravely, Captain Keymis rises; and thereupon 
Captain Polwhele rises jauntily and stands, like one who 
has proved his point, while Keymis speaks. 

KEYMIS 

Go, Boatswain, keep thy trust; and tell them this: 
They be our eyes wherewith we keep our watch; 
But I, until Sir Walter come again — 
As come he shall, with news of where the stream 
Plows deepest for our navy — am the will 



28 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

That governs this our force. Let but the eyes 

Report a Spanish quiver in the air — 

Nay, in the hues of sunset — and the will, 

I pledge my word, shall make that grim old Don 

Go face it hanging. 

THE BOATSWAIN 

God be wf you, sir. 

So he goes willingly forth, up to the deck again; and when 
he is gone, Polwhele speaks. 

POLWHELE 

Brave words, sir; but remember, when the Queen 
Betook herself from earth, and canny James 
Journeying toward London met our vagrant knight, 
Then Captain of the Guard, his Scottish mind 
Was even as doubtful as these sailors' are. 
So when Sir Walter crooked his pliant knee, 
"I have heard but rawly of thee !"" cried the King, 
And clapped him in the Tower. 

KEYMIS 

Thou saucy fellow! 
That speech, thou knowest, Sir Walter never brooked 
From any save the King. An thou presumest — 

POLWHELE 

More gently, sir. I am a gentleman 
Who hath adventured much. 



THE FIRST PART 29 

KEYMIS 

I thou thee, man, 
To show thee here thy place. A gentleman ! 
God's blood ! Time was when gentlemen had died 
Ere they had slunk as thou. — Hark. If to me 
A whisper cometh more that buzzing doubters 
Gather about thee, — even as tropic flies 
Swarm to a carrion there to fat themselves 
With noisome nurture, — ere Sir Walter come 
1 11 lay the lashes on thy gentle back. 

POLWHELE 

By God, sir, you shall answer me for this, 
If ever we see England. 

KEYMIS 

Keep the peace 
Till then; and send me for a challenger 
Some stale companion of thy lady wife — 
Her that the player wrote his sonnets for, 
Pembroke's cast mistress. 

Then Polwhele, in anger , makes as if to draw his sword; but 
just then Young Ralegh calls to them merrily from the 
deck above; and his voice shows him already flushed with 
drink. 

YOUNG RALEGH 

Ho, within there ! Wine 's 
Ready, I hope. 



30 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

And with that, Key mis turns sternly to Polwhele, speaking 
as one in command. 

KEYMIS 

Now silence to our brawl. 
Here are young Wat, and Don Antonio, 
The hard-favoured Spaniard. 

So Polwhele does not draw, but stands angry; and down 
from the deck comes Young Ralegh, unsteady with his 
drink, but making as if in courtesy to aid the grave old 
Spanish Don Antonio de Berreo, who follows him. 

YOUNG RALEGH 

Nay, sir, I 'll go first. 
This ladder's steep. Lean on my shoulder. — So. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Gracias. I grow old. 

YOUNG RALEGH 

For want of wine. — 
Why, Captains, till we came with store of sack, 
This reverend sinner tells me, — we be all 
Miserable sinners in our service-book; 
I'll show it you anon, sir, — for some score 
Of weeks, they quenched their thirst by biting bungs 
Of voided pipes and tuns. Here 's better liquor. 
It grew in Spain, sir; how it came to us 
Were not quite mannerly to tell. — 
And by this he has gone to the table, and from the flagon 



THE FIRST PART 31 

there he has filled cups, giving one to each of the com- 
pany. And thereupon, looking at each in turn, he gives 
his toast with a laugh. 

The King, 

God bless him ! 

So the Captains Keymis and Polwhele raise their cups; but 
Don Antonio de Berreo makes a gesture to interrupt the 
toast, asking courteously his question. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Pray, which king, sir? 

YOUNG RALEGH 

Which you will. 
I gave the toast to fit or our King James 
Or your King Philip. They are royal friends, 
As we are friends though humbler. — Captain Keymis 
And Captain Polwhele, do not lag behind us; 
Drink with us to the King, who shall possess 
His own Guiana. 

ALL 

Amen. To the King ! 
So they drink the toast; and presently the Spaniard speaks. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Now, gentlemen, I pray you drink with me. 

And thereupon Young Ralegh takes again the flagon, and 
fills for all, speaking with merriment. 



32 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

YOUNG RALEGH 

Fill your cups. Spare no wine. Our sober Keymis 
Shall pledge you brimming this time. 

DON ANTONIO DE BEEREO 

With me to 

Sir Walter Ralegh, my most gallant host 

Here on the Destiny. He is gone to seek 

A passage to the deep Guiana mines; 

And may he prosper as we hope he shall. 

So the two Captains, with the Spaniard, raise their cups 
again. But this time Young Ralegh interrupts, suddenly 
grave, with the gravity of drink. 

YOUNG RALEGH 

How mean you that, sir? 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Marry, as it please you; 
I gave it to suit all. 

YOUNG RALEGH 

Then all be suited. 

So all drink the Spaniard^ toast; but as they set down their 
cups, Captain Keymis leads Young Ralegh apart, speak- 
ing to him privately, with concern. 

KEYMIS 

Your leave, sir. Be not careless with your wine. 
Here wit must not be cloudy. 



THE FIRST PART 33 

YOUNG RALEGH, to KeymiS 

Never fear. 
I play my father's game. Fasting from wine 
Hath made the Don's head light. I '11 set it spinning 
Till his tongue reel us yarns. 

keymis, still to him 

I fear yourself 
Shall grow entangled in them. 

YOUNG RALEGH 

Trust me, friend. — 

So he turns from Keymis, gravely addressing him to the 
Spaniard. 

Your favour, Don Antonio. On your neck 

I see the image of our Blessed Lord. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

To wear it is our manner. 

YOUNG RALEGH 

So in France 
I have seen them — not so featly carven as this; 
And yet methinks I made one better there. 



Yourself, sir? 



DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 
YOUNG RALEGH 

Ay, myself. I was but young— 



RALEGH IN GUIANA 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 



And now? 



YOUNG RALEGH 

I am three and twenty. Lusty Ben — 
You knew him, Polwhele. 

polwhele 

He that makes the plays, 
Laid bricks once, slew a player, and drinks deep? 

YOUNG RALEGH 

The same. He was my tutor. Once I plied him 
Till he was e'en past snoring. Then, his heels 
Together, either arm stretched out, his head 
Dangling, I bade them lay him in a cart 
And carry him abroad through Paris streets, 
A livelier image of the crucifix 
Than any carved in France. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Your language, sir, 
I am not perfect in; else I had thought 
This jest unseemly. 

YOUNG RALEGH 

My grave father swore 
It smacked irreverence; but my lady mother — 
Born Bess Throckmorton, sir; bred at the court 
Of great Elizabeth. — 



THE FIRST PART 35 

polwhele, apart to Berreo 
And big with him 
Before her hand was ringed. (To Young Ralegh.) Pray, 
what said she? 

YOUNG RALEGH 

She clapped him on the cheek, and cried in youth 

He was no wiser. — So the trouble passed. — 

And with that he turns laughing to the table, filling the 
cups again, while he speaks on. 

Your health, sir, now. Come, Captains, to the Don ! 

Then he shall pledge all three. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Your pardon, sir; 
I have my fill. 

YOUNG RALEGH 

Why, then, I'll sing a song 
Shall make you thirst; I made it to a tune 
The sailors chant at work. — Your health, sir, first. 

So he drinks once more, this time to the Spaniard; and then, 
to the tune they call "The King shall have his own 
again,'''' he sings his song. 

So from Cadiz by the sea, 
Yo-ho — Heave-ho ! 
Where we made their gunners flee, 

Yo-ho — Heave-ho ! 
O'er the drowsy tropic main, 

Yo-ho — Heave-ho ! 
Where we lightened ships of Spain, 
Yo-ho — Heave-ho ! 



36 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

To the Indies now we come, 

Yo-ho — Heave-ho ! 
Where they beat the alarum drum, 

Yo-ho — Heave-ho ! 
For the harbours and the gold, 

Yo-ho — Heave-ho ! 
Which they have, but shall not hold, 

Yo-ho — Heave-ho ! 

How's that, sirs? — Sure the tide runs faster now 
Than ever it ran before. T is hot here, too. 
These tropic seas make all our knees give way. 

KEYMIS 

'T is cooler in your cabin. Come with me. 
Rest you awhile. 

YOUNG RALEGH 

Why, as you will. — Your arm — 
I am something qualmish. — Look for me anon 
To pledge the Don afresh. 

So Keymis leads Young Ralegh to the cabin within; and 
when they are gone beyond hearing Polwhele turns him 
quickly to the Spaniard. 

POLWHELE 

Sir, all goes well. 
The crews are wavering; till, in fine, these two — 
The grizzled incorruptible, and the boy, 
Silly with drink — are all that stoutly stand 
Betwixt us and possession. 



THE FIRST PART 37 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Sir, your hand. — 
It shakes not; and mine own is steady, too. 

POLWHELE 

And both are armed. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Nay, sir, the trouble 's there. 
I am here a guest. The usage of our Spain 
Locks guests' arms to the scabbard. 

POLWHELE 

Mere punctilio 
Must not avoid our purpose. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

We of Spain 
May not forget punctilio. 

POLWHELE 

But myself 
Were sore at odds with two. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

I will hold the boy. 

POLWHELE 

Meseems your years were something overmatched 
By his strong English youth. 



38 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Made weak with wine, 
Even as a life run thrice the span of his 
In temperate health hath made my grip like steel. 

POLWHELE 

Here cometh Keymis. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Have at him from behind. 

So Keymis comes back, sad and thoughtful; and Polwhele, 
when he is well forward, draws and makes at him from 
behind; but Keymis, drawing his sword, turns swiftly, 
stoutly defending himself. And as they fight, he shouts. 

KEYMIS 

What ho ! Young Walter ! Treason ! To my aid ! 

Then comes stumbling back Young Ralegh, still heavy with 
drink, his sword drawn. 

YOUNG RALEGH 

By God, sirs, this is scurvy! 

don antonio de berreo, pinioning his arms 
Nay, young sir, 
Stand still by me. We will mark them. You meanwhile 
May chant again your pretty sailor-song. 

KEYMIS 

Wouldst gore me with the horns that Pembroke bought 
thee ? 



THE FIRST PART 39 

POLWHELE 

Hold fast the boy ! 

YOUNG RALEGH 

By God, sirs, this is scurvy! 

But then comes from the deck a great shout of voices crying 
in greetings "Sir Walter Ralegh! Sir Walter Ralegh!" 
And with that Polwhele, taken aback ', falters; and Key mis 
presses him hard, again shouting. 

KEYMIS 

Sir Walter ! Ho ! Here 's treason, but I 've downed it. 

So he has Polwhele on his back. And then swftly down 
from the deck comes Sir Walter Ralegh, followed by 
others, men at arms and the like, who stand back. Then, 
looking sternly about him, he speaks. 

RALEGH 

I come in happy season, here to find 
A happy ending to a happy voyage. 

don antonio de berreo, releasing Young Ralegh 
And here is your babe whom I have saved from hap. 

YOUNG RALEGH 

Father, I beg thee, father, give me chance 
To show myself the man. 

RALEGH 

Anon, Wat. Now 
Betake thee to thy cabin. 

So Young Ralegh goes out, sad; and Ralegh speaks on. 



40 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

Captain Keymis, 
You are hurt? 

KEYMIS 

Praise God, sir, no; I had him down. 

RALEGH 

Clap him in chains. I will call you back anon. 

Now leave us. 

So all but Ralegh and Berreo go forth to the deck; and 
Ralegh, taking the flagon, drinks therefrom a great 
draught of wine; and then, refreshed, turns him sternly 
to the Spaniard. 

Don Antonio de Berreo, 

Was this well done, our kings at peace, myself 

Trusting your friendship? 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

I was taught the trick, sir, 
When to my town Saint Joseph, years ago, 
There came a fleet of English friends. I gave them 
Of what I had; and when the Indian night, 
Glorious with stars, fell on our revelry, 
They turned those heavenly lamps to thievish lanterns, 
And slew my guard, and made me prisoner, 
Burning my town. 

RALEGH 

I had savoured of the ass 
To leave your strength behind me, journeying on 
To explore my Queen's Guiana. 



THE FIRST PART 41 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Nay, Sir Walter, 
I may not yield you that: Guiana was ours 
From the bold days of great King Charles the Fifth. 

RALEGH 

Grant that your Carlos knew her secrets first, — 
As he knew store before he took the cowl, 
Seeking God's mercy superstitiously, — 
It was by no fair encounter, but such force 
As your armed soldiery use with soft-eyed girls 
And wives of Orinoco. We were come 
To right that mischief. She — our maiden queen, 
Elizabeth — 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Brave maiden ! 

RALEGH 

Sir, of her 
No word unreverent. Now these fourteen years 
She dwells in glory, heaven the richer for 
Our poverty on earth. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

The which, methinks, 
Bred in her love of gold most justly ours. 

RALEGH 

You do her wrong. She loved it as it brought 



42 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

Power with possession. Not its yellow self 

Did she, or I, her servant, ever care for. 

T was when she marked your shuttling galleons weave 

On this Atlantic loom your golden tissue 

Of priestly empire, faring back and forth 

With precious threads, she roused her English spirit; 

Then bade me spoil the stuff, replacing it 

With our more rude but stouter. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

And therewith? 

RALEGH 

Why, she would have mantled all this Western world, 
Covering the wounded nakedness you wrought, 
With that sweet name, born of her purity, — 
Virginia. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

That queen is dead, Sir Walter. 

RALEGH 

May God so guide me, when my time shall come, 
That I may pass to where she lives undying. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

The king who had succession to her throne 
Of England holds more prudent policy. 

RALEGH 

Held rather. He mistrusted. But no longer 



THE FIRST PART 43 

Doth stiffening inaction keep me caged 
In London Tower, making the history books 
That men shall cherish. Now, in loyalty, 
He sends me forth, his loyal servitor, 
To take possession, in his sovereign name, 
Of this, his broad Guiana. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Listen, sir; 
You found me here before you, come from Spain 
Hasting to bid you welcome. 

RALEGH 

Ay; and wondered 
To find you voyaged so far; but gave my hand, 
Renewing broken friendship. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Have you guessed 
Who sent me hither? 

RALEGH 

Philip. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

No; King James. — 

So, as he speaks on, he draws from his breast a packet of 
papers; and these he gives one by one to Sir Walter 
Ralegh. And Ralegh, as he takes them, sits, gazing at 
them, amazed. And the Spaniard stands by his side, ex- 
pounding their meaning. 



44 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

I ask you not to trust my Spanish word, 

For I would trust no English. Here are letters 

To prove me truthful. From the King of Spain 

One that I brought in March; another sent 

After in May; another still — July 

Brought this from Porto Rico, from the Bishop, 

Duly attested; here is a fourth, not from 

King Philip's hand, but written by our farmer 

Of customs in the Indies. All are like 

In tenor. Do you read our Spanish script? 

RALEGH 

Faultily, Don Antonio. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

May I aid you. 
In substance all say this: Your royal James, 
At peace with our King Philip, greeteth him, 
Sending him message how you are gone forth 
To seek rich mines still unpossessed by us. 
He bids us guard our own, then ; since aforetime 
'T was whispered you were something careless of 
The laws of mine and thine. So, if perchance 
We find you trespassing and let you go 
Unprisoned, why, your own just English law 
Shall hold you answerable, if for nothing else 
Then for the sentence passed in Cobham's case 
Upon your daring neck. 



THE FIRST PART 45 

RALEGH 

I had read aright, 
Choosing to doubt my wit, before the throne 
That was Elizabeth's. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Elizabeth 
Dwells now in glory. Orinoco, sir, 
Is warned and guarded. You, unwarranted, 
Trespass on our Guiana. Make your choice: 
Or go in peace, or stay a rebel to 
Your own King James. 

ralegh, rising' up 

You put me to the test ! 
Thereby my mind is settled. — Ho! Without there! 
Bid Captain Keymis come hither. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

You make sail? 

RALEGH 

Not so; this cloudy monster, circumstance, 
Affrighting common folk, doth melt to air 
Round them that, plunging in her maw, dare vex 
Her misty bowels. 

Enter Keymis. 

KEYMIS 

At your bidding, sir. 



46 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

RALEGH 

Polwhele, the roaring gentleman, is chained? 

KEYMIS 

Securely, sir. 

RALEGH 

Why then, Tom Keymis, I "11 trust thee 
With something nobler. Now this thirty year 
Have thou and I been shipmates, and we near 
At last our final harbour. 

KEYMIS 

Nay, Sir Walter, 
I hope not yet. 

RALEGH 

Good! Keep thine hopes alive; 
We need them all, God knows. — There's treason, Tom. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Tell whose ! 

RALEGH 

Nor I nor thou shall whisper whose! 
I am master yet, Berreo. — Keymis, choose men, 
And take young Walter with thee. Seek the mines 
You wot of. Dig there. Bring me back the gold 
Shall win the heart of James. — O, if that I 
Might lead the way! But those twelve idle years 
In London Tower have crippled that bold strength 



THE FIRST PART 47 

Which made my body, in the olden times, 

Stout as my heart. So I must tarry here, 

And watch, and pray and guard. — Tom, none but thee 

Would I quite trust with this; for all is at stake. — 

Come! Hug me, man! — So. Bid thy crew make ready. 

KEYMIS 

'Tis here you plan to wait me? 

RALEGH 

Ay, just here. 

KEYMIS 

How long, sir? 

RALEGH 

Take a month. Go stoutly armed; 

You shall see fighting. If the thirtieth day 

Bring no good news of thee, it shall be the last 

Of this grave old Berreo. Tell Spaniards so, 

If on the river they seek word of him. 

And guard him to his cabin, there to outwait 

The changes of a moon. 

So, with a mocking smile, the Spaniard gives up his sword; 
and presently Keymis leads him out. Then, after a little 
while, Ralegh, alone at the door of his son's cabin, calls to 
him. 

What, Walter boy, 

Come forth. 

Then forth from the cabin comes Young Ralegh, penitent; 



48 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

and kneels him down at his father's feet ■, who tenderly lays 
his hand on the boy's head. 

YOUNG RALEGH 

O, father, father, I am young, 
And played the fool. 

RALEGH 

Well, play it, Wat, no more. 

Here 's business afoot shall make thee great 

Or end us altogether. Trust thee, boy, 

In good Tom Keymis, to whom I trust myself. 

And just then sailors without begin chanting Young Ralegh's 
tune. 

Hark. They make ready. Make thee ready, too; 

And, Walter boy, whatever hap, remember 

Thou 'rt Walter Ralegh's son and Bess Throckmorton's, 

Bred at the court of great Elizabeth. 

And so they part, Young Ralegh going to the deck, and Sir 
Walter, heavy with care, to his cabin. 



Between the First Part and the Second, almost a month is 
feigned to pass. 



THE SECOND PART 

Sir Walter Ralegh enters, pondering over a map. Then to 
him enters his prisoner, the Spaniard. And Ralegh, laying 
down the map, begins to speak sorrowfully. 

RALEGH 

Antonio de Berreo — 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Walter Ralegh. — 
I so forgot your knighthood, hearing you 
Forget my due. 

RALEGH 

We English, blunter folk 
Than Spanish, have an honest, foolish trick 
Of speaking, when our hearts be big, to men 
By just the names God gave them. For as God 
Makes gentlemen of nobler clay than knaves, 
Nor earthly honours alter any jot 
The one or the other, so His simplest names 
Mean most of all. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

The speech I had esteemed 
A flout you turn to an honour. 

RALEGH 

Ay, and more. — 
You bade me once not trust your Spanish word, 



50 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

For you would trust no English. Yet today 
I mean to trust you. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

If you will, you may; — 
Within the bounds of honour. 

RALEGH 

Give me aid : 
Interpret to me what an Indian means 
Whose tongue we have no skill in. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

That I will. 

RALEGH 

I thank your courtesy. Nine and twenty days 
These tropic tides have swung us since the flood 
Of Orinoco bore from sight the boats 
On whose adventure warring Spain and England 
Must stake their future. Now, perchance, this savage 
May tell their story; that, no wit but yours 
Among us can unravel. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

You, sir, would 
Have done so much for me, had I come hither, 
A transient voyager, where these many years 
You had governed, learning quaint, barbaric tongues 
That brown-faced Indians chatter. 



THE SECOND PART 51 

RALEGH 

So I would, 
And may do yet! — But let that pass. — In the night 
He slipped beside us. When the morning broke 
Full-grown from the womb of ocean, he from his boat 
Made eager signals. So we had him aboard; 
And ever since he points us toward the river 
With antic motions, uttering uncouth sounds 
That leave us never wiser. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

It is like 
I can tell their meaning. 

RALEGH 

Which, perhaps, shall be 
The meaning of our lives. These thirty years 
Good enemies, each knows the other true 
To the cause he lived for — I to England's, you 
To that of Popish Spain. And, Don Antonio, 
I think that when we meet o? the other side 
Of that we wait for, if so be it we may, 
Why, each shall love the other better for 
So loyal warfare here. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Sir Walter Ralegh, 
May I speak from the heart? 



52 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

RALEGH 

Sure that is how 
I speak myself today; for I grow weary 
Of this dissembling trouble, hollow life, 
Where each would thwart the rest. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

I wonder not 
Your heart hath sickened. While our Spanish kings 
Stand trusty by their servant, James of England 
Deserts you, in these ticklish, fatal days 
When most you need him. 

RALEGH 

Kings are mortal men; 
And empires, too, shall pass. Our tumbling world 
Flows down the slope of time to be engulfed 
In deep eternity, as mighty rivers 
Merge in old ocean. Yet, as this frothy world 
Outlasts the imperial systems, burst like bubbles 
From out of it, so those glistering realms outlast 
Their flitting tenants. England shall remain, 
Long after James, and we, with all that live 
Today, lie rotting. Those of time to come 
May judge James as it please them, judging me 
So long as James was England loyal to 
My English duty. 



THE SECOND PART 53 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Why not rather loyal 
To all the future world? I bear you a mission, 
Till now unbroken, from a stauncher king 
Than you have known. Sir Walter, would you listen 
To Philip's greeting, you and I together 
Might plant in this Guiana dynasties 
To outlast old Europe. 

RALEGH 

That imperial hope 
I cherish for old England is too wide 
To brook a rival. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Even so thought we, 
Till we beheld so worthy a rival come 
That we would rather count him with ourselves 
Than rule without him sovereign. 

RALEGH 

Don Antonio! — 
I am not angry. You have warrant for this, 
Knowing how Scots in England hold their faith 
As light as churls of Carthage; nor is it strange 
Scotland and Devon to your Spanish mind 
Should seem all one. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Believe my conquered love 



54 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

For your brave person urges me to urge 
Our royal Philip's friendship. 

RALEGH 

Greet him, sir; — 
If so it chance you may fare home to Spain, 
Our English venture prospering; — and so tell him 
It were not seemly I should reason of James, 
Being his subject; but that ere this fleet 
Set forth, which rides here still, rigged at the cost 
Of many English gentlemen, one of these, — 
The Lord Arundel, a very worthy man, — 
Beset with doubts, had promises from me 
To see me there again — which I must keep, 
Or soil mine honour. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Yet remember, sir, 
Whatever chance here, your courageous life 
Shall rest unsafe in England. 

RALEGH 

For myself 
I care not, so that England prosper still. — 
This savage Indian — why the devil waits he? — 
Perchance hath prosperous news for Englishmen, 
Won by the venture Keymis and my young Wat 
So boldly undertook — What, Boatswain there! 



THE SECOND PART 55 

the boatswain, answering J rom the deck without 
Ay, ay, Sir Walter. 
And so, with looks of vexation, the Boatswain comes slowly 
down the stair from the deck. And as he comes Sir Walter 
speaks on. 

RALEGH 

Why bringest thou not the Indian, as I bade thee? 

THE BOATSWAIN 

Marry, Sir Walter, an it please you, — or, for that matter 
an it please you not, neither, for it is all beyond me, — I 
bring him not for very good reason; namely, that I have 
him not to bring. 

RALEGH 

Surely thou hast not let him escape. 

THE BOATSWAIN 

Escape, sir! What think you of us all to say that? He 
hath by no means escaped. 

RALEGH 

But what then? What then? 

THE BOATSWAIN 

Why, what he hath done, Sir Walter, is as it were the 
opposite of escape. For escape, as I take it, is as one should 
say come out of danger into safety; and the naked fellow is 
even now clambering out of comfortable, friendly safety into 
the most danger he can find. 



56 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

RALEGH 

Clambering! And whither should he clamber? 

THE BOATSWAIN 

Nay; whither, Sir Walter, I cannot now justly tell, but 
whence I can. For when your honour called me below he 
was sitting in the main-top, even as the Popish apes we saw 
aforetime in Orinoco — of whom I myself would think him 
one but that his bum hath no tail — would sit in branches, 
jabbering their bawdy prayers and the like. 

EALEGH 

And how came he there in the main-top? 

THE BOATSWAIN 

An you will grant me time to tell you, Sir Walter, I will 
make shift to do so. For, by your order, we had made him 
welcome, and fed him, and brought him drink — but not 
so much as he would have had, being like the rest of them, 
and some Christians also, too thirstily given — 

RALEGH 

Enough of that. Why couldst thou not bring him below 
here ? 

THE BOATSWAIN 

Why, when in all gentleness, Sir Walter, we would have 
clapped hands on him to bring him below here, through 
the hatch-way, he, being without clothes, but as God made 
him, was through our fingers and up the shrouds before 



THE SECOND PART 57 

we might find breath to bid him be damned. And how to 
bring down, save with a shot, I for one know not. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Let me go call to him. These Indian folk 
Have much mistrusted since, in former times, 
We closed our hatches over two caciques 
And brought them home to Spain. 

RALEGH 

Ever the same 
Sly tricksters ! with ourselves, or with these meek 
Brown children of the West, who held you as gods 
Till sorrow proved you devils ! 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Good Sir Walter, 
Our Spanish ways little resemble yours, — 
Our king is very trusty, — but ourselves, 
Like your best selves of England, may not hear 
Rebukes without rebuke. 

RALEGH 

I cry you pardon. 
I am not what I was, in all the strength 
Of youth and confidence. Elizabeth 
Bore with her from this world something whereof 
The lack makes flickering weakness master me, 
And hasty speech usurp the seat of judgment — 



58 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

Seek, how you will, the Indian. What he bears me 
I cannot bear to lose. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Nor shall you, sir. 

So they go out, the Boatswain leading, and Ralegh is left 
alone. 

RALEGH 

O, I am old and sickly; and my brain 

Reels palsied doubt. Mine England ! if thou mightst 

Possess these future continents we coast 

And spy, then, though ten thousand valiant lives 

As dear as Key mis'* or Wat's — more dear than mine, 

Dull, aged, broken — took their starry flight 

From Orinoco, I could shout for joy 

Above the sons of the morning ! O, my Queen ! 

When thine Auroral presence brightened earth 

Who loved not, feared it. Now thine English glory 

Fades in rank Scottish mists; and lurking scroyles 

Creep forth i 1 the murk until our very crews 

Seem of them, hither lured by greed of gold, 

Not care for England. — So my groping love 

Cleaves heart-sick to that valorous old man 

Here in my power. While the fleeting days 

Bring on his time of parting, if no word 

Come sooner from our venturers, his cheek, 

More pale than mine with years, begins to glow 

With buoyant hope for what shall bring despair 



THE SECOND PART 59 

To England, plunging this round hemisphere 
Deep in the Popish drowsiness of Spain. 

A cry without: "Overboard!" 
Overboard ! Who ? The Spaniard ? 

the boatswain, coming hastily down the stair, speaking 
as he comes 

Nay, Sir Walter; have no fear. The Spaniard is safe 
enough, but you should have seen the other at the sight 
of him, who is now farther from good, comfortable escape 
than ever he was, among the man-eating fishes, unless per- 
chance in the dimness of the waters they should take him 
for one of their ugly selves. 

RALEGH 

Nay, tell me clearly, who is overboard. I hope 't is not the 
Indian. 

THE BOATSWAIN 

Good Sir Walter Ralegh, with your leave I will tell you 
all. We come on deck, I first and the other in his black suit 
following close. So I, catching sight of him there in the 
main-top, shake my fist at him thus, pleasantly, to show 
him what an I had my own way he should catch for his 
manners, or lack of them, in so slipping aloft to our trouble 
and vexation. But there he sits, for all me, grinning back at 
us with his apish jabber. Then comes the Don up after me, 
very grave, with his hand thus in what should be his jerkin 
— for how they name their outlandish Spanish garb I can- 



60 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

not call to mind. (And just here comes the Spaniard, gravely 
descending the stair, unobserved.) But of this I am sure, that 
he makes no friendly motion such as mine was. So when the 
naked fellow aloft sees him he gives a great cry like "Span- 
yole!" — which I take to be what these papists foolishly call 
themselves — and so out on the yard, and head-first takes 
water, that the sharks may have him sooner than we. 

RALEGH 

Send me the Spaniard hither. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

I come unsent, sir, 
To tell you all I can. 

RALEGH 

Send me hither, too, 
The vapouring Captain, striking off his chains. — 

So the Boatswain goes out. 
I am displeased to find you play with me 
At fatal moments. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

In all sadness, sir, 
Here was no playing. 

RALEGH 

Lord ! I know not that — 
Nor know I anything in this treacherous world 
Save what myself may do. 



THE SECOND PART 61 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

So far as I 
Could mark, he came of an once warlike tribe 
Who, rising against us, met with chastisement 
That makes them shiver at the thought of Spain. 

RALEGH 

And even so, I would that men of Spain 
Might view us English ! 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

I had thought you, sir, 
Too wise to waste the treasure of your wishes 
In airy folly. 

RALEGH 

Let me remember you 
Your time grows very short. We have no priests 
Here in our fleet. Make shift to shrive yourself. 
For if tomorrow — that's the thirtieth day 
Past since they left us, Key mis, and my young Wat, 
And all the rest — bring us no happy news 
Through them for England, then that same dark morrow 
Must be your last. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Last days must come to all; 
You shall not find me fearful. 

Enter Polwhele. 



62 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

RALEGH 

For this fellow, 
Who had sent Tom Key mis to God a little sooner — 

POLWHELE 

You speak of me, Sir Walter? 

RALEGH 

Ay, sir. 

POLWHELE 

Listen, 
I pray you rather, while I speak myself. 
I am a gentleman who, trusting your skill, 
Adventured much. You absent, I believed 
Venture and life in danger. If I erred 
You might with justice reason with mine error. 
Instead, you chained one who hath friends at home 
As good as you, and better. I take it ill 
To be thus scorned. 

RALEGH 

Why, take it as it please you. — 
This gentleman tomorrow hath a mind 
To leave us, and betake him to that voyage 
We all embark on. — 

POLWHELE 

O, poor gentleman ! 
This is most bloody. He shall have my prayers. 



THE SECOND PART 63 

RALEGH 

He shall have more. 

POLWHELE 

More? 

RALEGH 

Ay, your company. 

POLWHELE 

Sir Walter ! Sweet Sir Walter ! I repent 
All these fond indiscretions. 

RALEGH 

Very well; 

You Ve the less to do beforehand. Do not whimper; 

Mark him, and let his Spanish valour teach 

Your English knavery how to make an end. 

But just then there comes from the deck without a sudden cry 
of: "A boat! A boat! 1 ' And Sir W alter , turning him 
quickly ', cries questioning to them without: 

A boat? 

a voice, from the deck without 

Ay, sir, a boat from out the river. 

RALEGH 

Why, Don Antonio, our vagrants come 

Just in the nick of time ! All is well with you ! 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Be not too sure one boat brings welcome news. 



64 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

POLWHELE 

Praise God, they come! I am safe! 

RALEGH 

Perchance thou art; 
But now, as I remember, thine offence 
Was chiefly done to Keymis, who comes again, 
In just the hour to judge thee. 

POLWHELE 

Sweet Sir Walter! 
He is hot and very violent. 

RALEGH 

The less 
Thy chance, then. — Ho, without there! Do they come? 

the voice, from the deck 
Ay, sir. We see more now — three or four at least. 

POLWHELE 

Sir Walter— 

RALEGH 

Stay below here. I am going 
To greet Tom Keymis and Wat. 

POLWHELE 

Here, on my knees, 
I pray you — 

RALEGH 

Stay with Don Antonio. 
So Ralegh goes eager up on deck; and the Spaniard stands 



THE SECOND PART 65 

by the stair ', looking after him, as if to learn what is doing 
there above. And Polwhele, very sorrowfid, sits silent a 
little while, then speaks doubtfully. 

POLWHELE 

O, sir — 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

You speak to me? 

POLWHELE 

Good heavens, sir, 
Who else is here to speak to? 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Why, then, speak 
At all? 

POLWHELE 

Pray, were you ever chained by the leg? 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Not I, sir. 

POLWHELE 

Had you been, you would crave for speech 
With any that would listen. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Not, I think, 
With those disposed to silence. — Pray, good Boatswain, 
The boats come still ? 



66 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

the boatswain, answering from the deck without 
Ay, sir, that they do ; and the first draws near at hand. 
O, all goes bravely; you should see Sir Walter wave his hat 
to them. 

Shouts without. 

POLWHELE 

Lord ! This is worse than what in other years 

I thought my worst — when Mary Fitton, sir, 

Who was my wife at last — thereby I had 

The money for this venture — played me false 

With one Will Shakspere. You should never have heard 

His name — a common player that made plays, 

Otherwise noteless; — but she liked his rhymes, 

And he was less in girth than I was then. 

So grieving I betook me to the stews, 

Unsavoury to remember. 

Shouts o/*" Captain Keymis!" 

THE BOATSWAIN, still without 

Ay, Captain Keymis it is, sure enough, my merry Don. 
He draws alongside even now. 

POLWHELE 

Woe is me! 
I would I were again in Turnbull Street, 
Mad, jilted, drunk, and happy. 

Shouts without. 



THE SECOND PART 67 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

What now, Boatswain? 

THE BOATSWAIN, Still without 

They come aboard, sir, they come aboard. Here is Cap- 
tain Keymis over the side. And Sir Walter hugging him. 
And more crowding up; and all as it should be, save that 
their faces be neither so clean nor so joyful as was to be 
hoped. — Nay! God save us all ! What is this they are say- 
ing? — Alas! Alas! And where is young Captain Ralegh? 
A confused noise without. 

POLWHELE 

Young Walter gone, he said? Then something is gained; 
There comes one less to flout us! 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Nay, if this 

Be true, God grant the blessing of his peace 

To that brave, foolish boy his father loved ! 

Then down from the deck comes Sir Walter Ralegh with 
Keymis, followed by others to whom Sir Walter sternly 
speaks, pointing his hand at Polwhele and the Spaniard. 

RALEGH 

Take those two out, and guard them. 

So they lead out the Spaniard and Polwhele, guarded. And 
Sir Walter Ralegh and Keymis are left there together. 

So poor Wat 

Is killed. 



68 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

KEYMIS 

He made a valiant end. 

RALEGH 

Trust him 
For that — my son and Bess Throckmorton's, too. 

KEYMIS 

Come near the hills, we landed. In the night 
The Spaniards came, unlooked for, in such force 
As made our common sort give way. Then he 
Most cheerily revived us. Without him 
I think we had been cut to pieces. 

RALEGH 

With him? 

KEYMIS 

We lightly charged the chargers, carrying them 
Confused before us. 

RALEGH 

Good! 

KEYMIS 

He, in our van 
With pikemen, leading on, was struck with a shot 
Full in the breast; but ere his gallant soul 
Broke forth from the wound, he found breath for these 

words : 
"The Lord have mercy on me, prospering your venture !" 



THE SECOND PART 69 

RALEGH 

Why, so farewell, dear Wat. Thou happily 
Art dead untired, knowing of heavy life 
Only the flushed beginning. Thy last prayer 
The Lord hath heard; and if from paradise 
Thou mayst glance back at us who linger here, 
Thy joys shall brighten still, to see us prosper. 

KEYMIS 

How prosper, sir? 

RALEGH 

Nay, that I wait to hear, 
Knowing only how you come victorious. 
And, sure, this victory shall outlive us, Tom, 
Even when we are forgotten. Thou and I 
Must soon fare after Wat — it is all one 
Or now or later. But the centuries 
Unborn hang on our conquest. Whether here 
The manly law of England shall prevail, 
Or else this tropic western hemisphere 
Languish with slumbVous Spain, is what we fought for 
And all the English seed of time to come 
Shall bless the fruit of our doings. 



KEYMIS 

Take me with you, 



Sir Walter. 



70 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

RALEGH 

Those deep mines thy skill hath won 
Confirm Guiana ours. Uncertain James, 
His eyes convinced by store of golden proof 
Which through your deeds I bring him, shall avow 
Our purpose his. And so, good-by to Spain ! 
The whole wide world is England^! 

KEYMIS 

Dear Sir Walter, 
We bring no gold. 

RALEGH 

No gold ! What baser tool 
Shall royal wits be wrought with? — Cease these stammer- 
ings! 
What bring you from the river? 

KEYMIS 

Only ourselves, 
Escaped with hardship from the watery wastes 
Of Orinoco. 

RALEGH 

Now, by Jesu Christ, 
One of us two runs mad ! 

KEYMIS 

The Spaniards held 
The stream in force, the hills, the very mines — 
If any be in those barrens — 



THE SECOND PART 71 

RALEGH 

Be there, sir ! 
Thou knowest them there, and bottomless ! 



KEYMIS 



I never 



Found trace of them. 



RALEGH 

Thou liest! 

KEYMIS 

Walter Ralegh, 
I have served you faithfully these thirty years — 

RALEGH 

Winning my trust, until I charged on thee 
The charge I bore for England. Fool that I was! 
Thou hast done us noble service. 

KEYMIS 

Still I serve 
You faithful, brooking words no other man 
Had uttered scathless. 

RALEGH 

Still the coward who 
Turned tail in Orinoco, leaving Spain 
To laugh her sleepy scorn of us. 

KEYMIS 

Have a care, sir ! 



72 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

And listen: was it better there to die 

Of sword or famine, unrecorded, leaving 

You prey for timeless doubt; or thus to tell you 

Just how we tried and failed? I mused on it long; 

Then puzzling came, chiefly for love of you, 

My life-long leader, who I thought would choose 

To know our whole sad story. 

RALEGH 

Gallant love! 
At least it saved thy skin. 

KEYMIS 

I would that skin 
Were pierced and flayed like them the Indians tan ! 
It was saved but for your service; and you fling 
Such taunts at me as no man dared before 
Nor any shall much longer. 

RALEGH 

He bids me shall! 
As though he knew me one brave terms could fear 
From damning knavish jacks! 

KEYMIS 

I have lived to learn, 
Finding you thus ungentle, one was right 
I chided late for telling that old tale 
Of how, when first you knelt before our James, 



THE SECOND PART 73 

"I have heard but rawly of thee!" cries the King, 
And claps thee in the Tower. 

RALEGH 

Captain Keymis, 
Thy sword! So. 

And with that Keymis sorrowfully gives up his sword; and 
Sir Walter Ralegh, turning to the wall, hangs it beside 
the sword of the Spaniard, which is there already. And 
then, turning back to Keymis, he speaks on, heavily. 

To thy cabin, there to ponder 

Thine argument. If thou make it satisfy 

His Majesty and the State, why, I for one 

Shall be glad of it. Betwixt thee and me 

All is over. 

KEYMIS 

All, Sir Walter? 

RALEGH 

All, sir. 

KEYMIS 

Nay, 
Sir Walter, both were hasty. Our old love — 

RALEGH 

Old folly, rather. For thine obstinacy, 

Which hath undone our England, breeds one good: 

I know thee craven at last. — I trusted Wat 

To thee; an I had trusted thee to Wat 

This had gone otherwise. 



74 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

KEYMIS 

I know then, sir, 
What course to take. 
So 9 with bowed head, Keymis goes out, to his cabin within. 

ralegh, to those without 

Send back the prisoners here. — 
I will show them yet there is danger left in me, 
Though I be soused in danger. 

Enter Berreo and Polwhele. 
Gentlemen, 
I think you smile, deeming yourselves no doubt 
Well out of trouble. Then your devilish games 
Have troubled me enough to make you smile. 
You have double cause for joy. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Worthy Sir Walter, 
I have no thought of smiling. 

POLWHELE 

No more have I. 

RALEGH 

And yet, methinks, ere this you should have heard 
The fate of our expedition. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Ay, sir; and 



THE SECOND PART 75 

Rejoicing for myself, I grieve for you, 
My faithful enemy. 

RALEGH 

What I shall do 
I know not altogether; but on this 
I am fixed: it is my need that all be sure 
About me. So to make it, I today 
Shall hang you both. 

POLWHELE 

Surely you jest, sir; but 
I hardly savour your merriment. 

A shot without. 

RALEGH 

What is that? 
Mutiny? 

the boatswain, who comes running from the cabin of 
Keymis, within 

O, Sir Walter, Sir Walter! — Captain Key mis! — 

RALEGH 

He said he knew what course to take. 
An it be mutiny, he shall find me plucky. 

And therewith he draws his sword. 

THE BOATSWAIN 

O, Sir Walter, if it were naught but a scurvy mutiny, I 
would not so come hither without orders and against all 



76 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

manners and discipline. But Captain Key mis — brave Cap- 
tain Keymis, that we have loved, and fought with, and 
known this thirty year — 

RALEGH 

What of him, man ? I am ready for the worst. 

THE BOATSWAIN 

And he past the worst, Sir Walter, with a bullet in his 
brain that himself hath put there, and his dagger, to make 
sure, stuck just beneath his left pap. 

RALEGH 

Dead, say you! Dead by his own hand? 

THE BOATSWAIN 

Alas ! Alas ! That we should have lived to see him grow 
white and stiff, and next we shall be living so to see our- 
selves ! 

RALEGH 

Why, Tom Keymis, 

I jump at last to thy meaning; and the course 

Thou takest is the course that I must steer 

Out of this troublous world. — To thee and me 

Life is bootless, nor can striving any more 

Lure back those glories here, to dwell wherein 

Thou surgest skyward! — Stay! I'll follow thee! 

So he turns his sword on himself; but Berreo and the Boat- 
swain prevent him. 



Sir Walter - 



THE SECOND PART 77 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 



POLWHELE 

Let him strike; 'twere best for us. 



DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Doth not sad human duty bid you stay 
This desperate happiness? 

RALEGH 

What mean you, sir? 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Why, even when I urged King Philip's love, 
The Lord Arundel, a very worthy man, 
You told me, had your word to see you back 
In England. 

RALEGH 

So he had. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Not keeping which, 
You said — 

RALEGH 

I soiled mine honour. Even so. — 
Mine honour, fair as England's, ere King James 
Made England Scottish. English royalty 
Crumbles to dust with bright Elizabeth, 



78 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

And that fair realm she ruled hath need of all 
Her fading gentry. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

Then, the greater way 
Were to betake you thither. 

RALEGH 

Thither, where 
That sentence waits me, passed in Cobham's case 
By tricksy quibblers. I had dared to dream 
Of faring home triumphant, conquering that 
In world-wide conquest. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

I might pledge you still 
The love of Philip. 

RALEGH 

Which I prize too high 
To hold but finally. He shall love me best 
In fair Saint Margaret's. — Boatswain, go bid them 
Make sail. We are going home. 

So the Boatswain goes sadly oat. 
Now on the block 
1 11 lay me down to sleep, keeping for aye 
Mine honour that your wit hath kept me safe 
When I so madly wavered. 



THE SECOND PART 79 

POLWHELE 

Silly wit, 

Fanning anew our dangers. 

Now while Polwhele is speaking. Sir Walter Ralegh has 
turned him toward the wall, and has taken therefrom the 
Spaniard^ sword, which now he hands to him, speaking 
gently. 

RALEGH 

Fare you well. 
Go free. 

So Berreo has back his sword; and sheathes it. 

polwhele 
And what of me? 

RALEGH 

Why, go so, too. 
The time is past when I should trouble me 
With earthy things. 

POLWHELE 

Come, while he entertains 
These heavenly thoughts. In England I will prove him 
What earthy things can do. 

So Polwhele goes threatening out. 

DON ANTONIO DE BERREO 

I will wait. — Farewell, 
Sir Walter Ralegh. Had I been your friend, 



80 RALEGH IN GUIANA 

Throughout this strife, perchance I had not known 
Your nobleness as now. For enemies, 
Most keen for mutual fault, learn best of all 
Each other's virtue. Had you been of Spain, 
Our Spain had prospered better than she shall. 

RALEGH 

Had England stood so faithful as your Spain, 

The world, I think, had known a braver future 

Than that I see darkling behind the keels 

That glide me to my rest. Our English die 

Is cast; the game is against us; and my rest 

Is all I look for now. 

And just then sailors on the deck without begin chanting the 
tune which Young Ralegh sang in derision to Spaniard. 

Your hand — Farewell. 

So they clasp hands. Then Don Antonio de Berreo gravely 
passes oid. And all the while the sailors sing, as, with 
bowed head, Sir Walter Ralegh betakes him to his cabin. 
And presently comes a sound of the Boatswain's whistle; 
and with that all ends. 



ROSAMOND 



CHARACTERS 

ELINOR, THE QUEEN 
ROSAMOND 

Scene 
The Bower at Woodstock. 



ROSAMOND 

Rosamond, reading 

feo fare thee well, Rose of the World. From France 
One shall ride swift with greetings. Day by day 
My thoughts shall fly to thee. Rebellious sons 
Of their curst mother take me from thee now. 
The cares of state, the turmoil of the wars 
Keep my wits busy — yet no day shall pass 
Without an embassy of love to thee. 
Watch for them day by day, and when they fail 
Know me no longer thy Plantagenet." — 
This from Southampton. Ay, and days have passed, 
And nights have I lain waking for the words 
I would not sleep for reading. Yet none came. 
So I begun to dread lest far away 
In France, amid all the pomp of royalty, 
Henry Plantagenet had little thought 
For these dull glades of Woodstock. Then, but now, 
Has come the summons calling forth the guard; 
And these dear lines I have so often conned 
I con again, to take farewell of them. 
For fresher greetings hurry to me now, 
And what has latest touched King Henry's hand 
Is dearest to my heart. — I hear one come 
Hurrying hither with the words of love 



84 ROSAMOND 

That now henceforth shall greet me day by day. 
Come hither quickly ! 

Enter the Queen. 

the queen, to attendants without 
Stay without there! I 
Would enter here alone. 

ROSAMOND 

Would enter here? 
Pray, lady, by what leave? Meseems it were 
Fitter that I should chide thy sauciness 
Than question any further. 

THE QUEEN 

Rosamond 
Men call thee. 

ROSAMOND 

T was a name not dear to me 
Until I knew it dear to him whose lips 
Have kissed my soul away — 

THE QUEEN 

Say no word more. 
Those thou hast said already were enough 
To prove my visit timely. 

ROSAMOND 

With your leave. 
I know not who you are. But this I know: 



ROSAMOND 85 

The name that greets me from the royal lips 
Of Henry is a name no other tongue 
May speak to me unchallenged. All but he 
Call me the Lady Clifford. 

THE QUEEN 

To thy face. 
What I have heard thee called sounds little like 
A term of honour. 

ROSAMOND 

How you entered here 
I know not. He who guards me waits without, 
Bound by allegiance so to do my will 
In Woodstock here as though King Henry's voice 
Spoke through my lips. Here I am royal too. 
The whims of kings are laws. A word from me, 
And your shrill voice is silenced. 

THE QUEEN 

Silly girl, 
Dost thou not know me? 

ROSAMOND 

No, nor would. Go safe. 
I give you leave to leave me, for that now 
Your voice and look speak ill of none but me, 
And I am merciful today, when fresh 
From France come greetings from my royal love. 



86 ROSAMOND 

THE QUEEN 

Greetings today ! 

ROSAMOND 

You are not safe to wait. 
I am a woman full of fantasy. 

Perchance my whim shall change. Your reverend airs 
Would not avail you should I speak the word 
Of doom instead of mercy. 

THE QUEEN 

Know me, then, 
Elinor of Guienne. 

ROSAMOND 

How came you here? 

THE QUEEN 

My guards without have mastered thine. This bower 
Is mine, who rule in England while my lord 
The King is busy with his wars in France. 

ROSAMOND 

Sir Richard, ho ! 

THE QUEEN 

Sir Richard hears, perchance; 
They say the dead have ears, but all too low 
Their voices are to answer. 

ROSAMOND 

Dead! 



ROSAMOND 87 

THE QUEEN 

Ay, dead! 
He strove to bar my passage with such news 
Of Henry's dotings as you prate. He fought 
Those I bade clear my way. So he is gone 
To see if at the gate of Paradise 
His royal master's name may more avail 
Than here on earth. 

ROSAMOND 

And I am here alone, 
And at thy mercy? 

THE QUEEN 

Mercy, Rosamond? 
Look not for that from me. Here I am come 
To do a deed of justice. 

ROSAMOND 

If the King 
Were by, to judge between us — 

THE QUEEN 

These grave wars 
In France distract the King. While he is gone 
To chide his warring children, I remain 
To do the petty works he leaves behind — 
Smile on the fawning courtiers, vex the Jews 
Till they bring forth their hoards, proclaim the laws, 



88 ROSAMOND 

And judge what forfeit those shall pay whose deeds 
Work mischief here in England. 

ROSAMOND 

Tell me, then, 
What forfeit she must pay who long ago, 
When Henry's children gathered at her knee, 
Whispered them tales of how, in times gone by, 
Princes waxed strong had harried hapless kings 
Into their graves. 

THE QUEEN 

T is thou that in the ear 
Of yielding Henry whisperest these tales 
To stir up strife betwixt him and the wife 
God gave him. 

ROSAMOND 

Now, by all the blessed saints 
That pray in Heaven for our sins on earth, 
You name a sin I am not guilty of. 

THE QUEEN 

Let the saints judge of that. 

ROSAMOND 

Nay, let them judge 
As sternly as God will what I have done — 
And I am very sinful, nor will plead 
Aught save that from the day when first he smiled 



ROSAMOND 89 

On me, a virgin, in my father's house, 

I have not thought a thought, nor spoke a word, 

Nor done a deed I have not done and spoke 

And thought to make him happy. — Let the saints 

Doom me for that. ""T is justice. But believe 

I never slandered thee. 

THE QUEEN 

Why, even now, 
Here, to my face, thou spakest out the words 
Thou wouldst disclaim. 

ROSAMOND 

Ay, to thy face I spake 
What men have told for truth. But unto him, 
Henry, my king, my love — 

THE QUEEN 

My husband, girl! 

ROSAMOND 

So be it. — I have never spoken word 

To stir his wrath against a living thing. 

Vexed with the cares of state, with wars, with plots, 

With all the turmoil that I know not of, 

He comes to me, to lay aside awhile 

The tedious pomp of royalty. And days 

Have passed, and months, and years, — the which I count 

For so much Heaven granted me on earth, — 



90 ROSAMOND 

And through them all betwixt the King and me 
Pass words of peace, and love, and joyousness. 
Believe me, we have dearer business 
Than thee and thy misdoing. 

THE QUEEN 

Rosamond, 
Thy time grows short. 

ROSAMOND 

Well, take me where thou wilt. 
Woodstock is thine now. Send me forth, and search it 
For that great treasure which till now it housed, 
King Henry's heart. 

THE QUEEN 

Thou hast not far to go. 
In Godstowe Church I bade the monks prepare 
A chamber for thee. Tis a narrow one; 
I would it were so narrow that therein 
Thou couldst not keep thy treasure. But, alas, 
My power is all too little to bereave 
Thee of the love that thy fair locks have stolen 
From me in all my royalty. 

ROSAMOND 

From thee, 
Lady, I have stolen nothing. Surely, then, 
Thou wouldst not have me die! 



ROSAMOND 91 

THE QUEEN 

Ah, Rosamond, 
Think'st thou I love him not? 

ROSAMOND 

Thou? Love the King? 

THE QUEEN 

Ay, love him with a consecrated love 
Made holy by the blessing of the Church. 
Oh, I am old. Thy locks are ruddy gold, 
And mine grow grizzled. Thy fair face is smooth, 
And my grim visage wrinkled with the cares 
Of years that were no more long ere thine eyes 
Laughed back the sunshine. But my heart awoke 
Almost as late as thine. When first the King 
Came in his bridal pomp to take this hand 
That made him master of those lands in France 
My fathers ruled, I looked upon the face 
Thou knowest as well as I. Then first I knew 
What life might be on earth. Ay, curl thy lip. 
Louis of France had known me; then proclaimed 
How some black -bearded Saracen, long since 
Gone to his lying prophet, made me sin 
Against his honour and the cross of Christ ; 
So cast me forth. These tales are old. But hear 
One older still : how younger yet than thou 
When first King Henry saw thee, I was made 



92 ROSAMOND 

Bride to that stale, unloving prince of France, 
Who craved Guienne, and took me as the price 
They made him pay for purchase. — Royalty 
Men deem most worthy state of mortal men. 
I have reigned Queen of France; I reign today 
Lady of England. Wouldst thou change with me? 
Take all my honours ? give me in return 
Only the love of Henry? 

ROSAMOND 

Rather die, 
As die I must if what thou speak'st be true. 

THE QUEEN 

And dost thou think that aught but truth could wring 
From me, from Elinor the Queen, these tales 
That speak the story of my wretched life — 
A wife unloving, then a wife unloved? 

ROSAMOND 

Lady, my sins are deeper than I knew. 
Heaven, I knew, forbade me so to love 
As what was earthly in me made me love. 
I turned from Heaven. Henry's love on earth 
Was Heaven enough for me. 

THE QUEEN 

So, too, for me 
Who bore him children, served his every nod, 
Watching and praying through the lingering years 



ROSAMOND 93 

That, wheresover his light fancy strayed, 
His eye at length might fall on me, and know 
The wife that loved him. — Girl, one look of love 
That never came had saved thee even now. 

ROSAMOND 

Lady, forgive me. I am very frail, 

And young, and sinful. Now at last I know 

That thou hast right to be as stern as God 

In judging me. Yet I have dared to hope 

That God, for Christ's sweet sake, and for the saints' 

That pray for us in Heaven, might perchance 

Forgive the sin I sinned against His law, 

Knowing the love that bound me. Elinor, 

Thou knowest that love. Be merciful. Forgive. 

I am afraid to die. 

THE QUEEN 

If thou wert I 
Wouldst thou forgive? 

ROSAMOND 

Alas, I know not. I 
Have in my veins none of that godlike blood 
That feeds the life of princes. 

THE QUEEN 

Rosamond, 
I have forgotten what my fathers were, 
And what I am today, save that I am 



94 ROSAMOND 

A woman and a wife much sinned against. 
Here, take this phial. 

ROSAMOND 

Lady! Elinor! 
Have mercy! To thy right I bow myself. 
I will go forth from hence, will hide my head, 
Where'er thou wilt, where none may find me out, 
And there live out my life in penitence 
For the great wrongs I did thee. Nevermore 
Shall Henry see my face — 

THE QUEEN 

And thinkest thou 
This earth is wide enough to hold a spot 
That love cannot search out? Oh, Rosamond, 
Through all the unseen centuries to come 
Men will remember that thy locks were fair 
And twined about the heart of him whose love 
I yearned to win in vain. In Godstowe Church 
Men will shed tears above thee sleeping there, 
Loved, unforgotten. All that blessedness 
Is thine forever. And my lot must be 
What it has been on earth. Where'er I sleep 
The sneers of men shall pierce the marble through 
And quiver in my bony ears the news 
That here in death, as erst in life, one lies 
Royal, unloved, forsaken. 



ROSAMOND 95 

ROSAMOND 

Pity me — 

THE QUEEN 

Nay, rather pity me. Here, take this glass. 
In to thy chamber. There make peace with God. 
Then drink the potion. In an hour's time 
My men shall come to find thee — if in death, 
To bear thee reverently to Godstowe Church, 
There to have burial. But lest thy faint heart 
Should fail to speed thee on thy road to God 
They shall bear daggers with them. 

ROSAMOND 

Fare thee well. 
Thy men shall find me even as thou wilt. 
May God have mercy on me. I have loved 
Even as thou. And were I thou, perchance 
Like thee I should do justice. If the King 
Ask thee in time to come how when thou earnest 
To Woodstock here thou found'st poor Rosamond, 
Tell him that in her hand she bore this scroll 
His hand had written ; conning it again, 
Though well she knew the lines, for that they bore 
Tidings of what was hers — and never thine — 
His love ! 

THE QUEEN 

"So fare thee well, Rose of the World." 



A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 



CHARACTERS 

THE PROLOGUE 

THE LORD CONRAD 

WALTER, HIS SON 

HIS HERALD 

HIS JESTER 

THREE CRUSADERS 

A MESSENGER FROM THE LORD PHILIP 

A CHAMPION OF THE LORD PHILIP 

A CLOWN 

A LITTLE CHILD 

Crusaders, Attendants on the Lord Conrad, 
Musicians, Sword-Dancers, and the like. 

The scene is in the Castle of the Lord Conrad, 
on a Christmas Eve, during the Crusades. 



A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

The company being assembled on the lower floor \ in the dress 
of soldiers returned from Crusading wars, there is first a 
sound of music above. And presently down the stair comes 
the Prologue, bearing a staff surmounted by a cross. And 
having saluted them he speaks: 

THE PROLOGUE 

VTood friends, you must be good friends indeed tonight. 
For if you would understand the fancies we would unfold 
before you, you must e'en make yourselves one and all part 
of them. So when, in a little while, one shall follow me, 
coming from an old world above to this world of yours be- 
low, you must take him as he comes; and feigning your- 
selves, as you seem, not men of these our later days but 
warriors come home from wars in heathen lands, you shall 
perchance taste such Christmas joys as once made Christmas 
seem halfway from earth heavenward. 



THE FIRST PART 

Then a trumpet sounds above; and after saluting them again 
the Prologue goes back up the stair. Then presently, after 
some merry noise, down the stair comes the Jester, tum- 
bling. Who, gathering himself up, salutes the company and 
begins: 

THE JESTER 

Figure that I am one fallen from heaven, even as Our 
LcFC. • 



100 A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

Blessed Lord fell on the first Christmas of all, unlooked 
for, among beasts that bleat and bray. For in truth I bear 
you a message from above. 

a crusader, from among the company 
Is this an hour for folly? 

THE JESTER 

Hist!— Who be ye all? 

A SECOND CRUSADER 

Our lord Conrad^ servants and men at arms, fool, come 
tired with our toils from the Holy Land. 

THE JESTER 

Hist, again! — And whither be ye come here? 

A THIRD CRUSADER 

To the threshold of our home. 

THE JESTER 

Our heavenly home or our earthly ? 

THE THIRD CRUSADER 

Our earthly, fool. 

THE JESTER 

Fool thyself. Wouldst thou strip earth of her folly ? For 
what else marks the difference between earth and Heaven 
save that folly sweetens not the skies ? — Bear with me, then, 



THE FIRST PART 101 

that bear you, as I said, a message from above, or, to speak 
more plainly, from our lord. 

THE FIRST CRUSADER 

Take not His name in vain whose holy tomb, 

Thrilling with Easter sunshine long ago, 

Gave life to conquered death. That blessed seed 

Awhile inurned there bloomed to the mystic flower, 

Unseen, eternal, which perfumeth still 

The souls of all the righteous. 

THE JESTER 

Hist! Hist! Hist!— 
T is thou art vain of thy sermon taking in vain the name 
of Our Blessed Lord. The lord from whom I bear you mes- 
sage, God be praised, is no blessed one, nor shall be, I hope, 
yet awhile, unless it be in the joy of your presence. He is 
our good old lord Conrad, who bids me bid you — 

THE THIRD CRUSADER 

What? 

A trumpet sounds above. 

THE JESTER 

Nay, that I have forgotten, save welcome home ; but here 
comes one can tell you better than I. 

Then, with another sound of the trumpet, down the stair 
comes the Herald; and having in turn saluted the company, 
he speaks: 



102 A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

THE HERALD 

First for a Christmas greeting: — Glory to 
The Lord on high, and on this earth to men 
Of good-will peace. 

THE CRUSADERS 

Amen! 

THE HERALD 

Now to yourselves — 
Come from the Holy Land in happy hour 
To join in Christmas revels and forget 
The toils wherethrough ye have won right to rest, 
First here on earth and then eternally 
In Abraham's bosom, — I am bidden bring 
All words of welcome which your hungered hearts 
May crave. Let each one image for himself 
The words he most would cherish; then let each 
Deem that those words are Conrad's. Even so, 
If strength would suffer, he would greet you — each 
According to your station — face to face. 
But, since his age is feeble, as ye know, — 
So that against his will he lingered here 
While ye went forth to battle for the Lord, — 
He must speak once for all. So, by my lips, 
He bids you range yourselves, each in your place, 
To hear his greeting; — in the foremost place 
Walter, his son, and heir to this domain, 



THE FIRST PART 103 

The Crusaders murmur among themselves. 

Then the chief captains, finally the men at arms. 

So he stands aside; and the Crusaders range themselves; but 
the foremost place is left empty. Then presently down the 
stair comes a procession, led by a choir who sing the March 
from Judas Maccabaeus; and last of all comes the old lord 
Conrad, led by him that spoke the Prologue, still bearing 
his cross. And when all are down, and the music ended, and 
each in his place, the Herald sounds his call again, and 
speaks: 

THE HERALD 

Now listen to the words our ancient lord 
Would speak to all together. 

CONRAD 

Gentlemen, — 
For whencesoever he that meanest stands 
Among you sprang, his service to Our Lord 
Hath won him title to nobility, — 
Welcome to peace. And first sweet peace to them 
Who once among us, faltering in the ways 
Of darksome earth, stand now irradiate 
In glorious presence of divinity. 

THE FIRST CRUSADER 

Amen! 

THE CRUSADERS, in UmSOU 

Amen! 

THE JESTER 

Ah, men that are no men, 



104 A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

But blithesome spirits ! 

CONRAD 

From thy foolish wit 
I take my cue. — Those blithesome spirits hover 
About us here, until to sight like mine, — 
Who hardly can discern the lineaments 
Wherewith God marked His image on us all, — 
Ye that are come again, and they whose forms 
Sleep in the green-clad arms of Mother Earth, 
Seem all alike, in this dear company 
Of Christmas charity. So I bid to all 
That ever were among us, welcome home. 
How ye have toiled ye know, and I believe, 
Who, old, blind, crippled, sent you in my name 
To win the sepulchre of Jesu Christ 
Back from the heathen. Ye shall tell your tales 
While we are feasting; for that ye are come 
To share our Christmas revels is a chance 
So happy that to dim our happiness 
I would not name a grief. And yet before 
Ye follow me up to our Christmas board, 
Know that a seat is lacking there tonight, 
Because Our Lord, finding His heavenly feast 
A shadow short of Heaven, hath summoned hence 
My gracious lady, to complete His joy; 
So I must sit alone to welcome you 
Without her lovely presence. 



THE FIRST PART 105 

THE CRUSADERS 

God's will be done. 

CONRAD 

And so it is; for sure ye know how they 

Who knew her best knew least the fleeting faults 

That made her sweetly human. — Well, she left us 

One who shall bravely show in time to come, 

As he no doubt hath shown in leading you, 

How her most gentle spirit, tempering 

The ruder strain, though brave, he had from me, 

Bred him to noblest knighthood — My dim sight 

Is foolishly at fault. I cannot tell 

Which of you there is Walter. 

A pause. 

THE FIRST CRUSADER 

Noble sir, — 

CONRAD 

That voice is not my son's. 

THE FIRST CRUSADER 

I would it were; 
Gruff though it be, 't is honest. 

CONRAD 

Does its tremor 
Tenderly try to tell me Walter's voice 
Shall gladden earth no more? 



106 A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

THE FIRST CRUSADER 

Most noble sir, 
Walter is here among us. 

CONRAD 

In God's name, 
Why starts he not to greet me, then? When I 
Was of his years I had not stood on form, 
Waiting the end of tedious, empty words, 
To crave a father's blessing. 

THE SECOND CRUSADER 

He starts not 
Because he cannot. 

CONRAD 

Cannot? 

THE THIRD CRUSADER 

Ay, my lord, 
We would not suffer him to hide his head 
From your most righteous judgment. 

CONRAD 

Now, by all 
The saints in Heaven, thou art treasonable! 

THE JESTER 

Father, — 

CONRAD 

Who speaks the name Walter alone 
Hath right to speak? 



THE FIRST PART 107 

THE JESTER 

Father, 'tis Christmas Eve; 
And foolishly it seems to me that peace 
Among men of good-will were fitter now 
Than angriness. 

CONRAD 

But by the wounds of Him 
Who bled for our salvation, I should be 
Fitter for Hell than Heaven, if this fellow, 
Slandering mine only son, went unrebuked! 

THE FIRST CRUSADER 

Judge us. (To those about him.) Bring forth young Walter. 

So they thrust forward W 'alter ■, whose arms are bound; and 
those about Conrad start and murmur in their surprise. 

CONRAD 

Who hath dared 
Thus lay uncivil hand on him whose form 
Embodied mine, your master's? 

WALTER 

Good my lord, 
This fellow hath some reason in him. 

CONRAD 

What! 

WALTER 

Shall he speak out, or I? 



108 A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

THE FIRST CRUSADER 

Most honoured sir, 
Give ear to me awhile. 

WALTER 

Well, let him speak; 
He is honest, though his wit be less alert 
Than his tough brawn. 

conrad, seating himself 

Stand back, sir. Walter, sit 
At my right hand. 

WALTER 

Nay, sir, I will stand like him 
Till you have judged our cause. 

CONRAD 

How quarrelled you? 

WALTER 

There is no quarrel, sir. He is as honest 
As you or I; only his honesty 
Has grown at odds with mine, and he is one 
Who cannot grant that others than himself 
Can see in the sunlight. 

CONRAD 

Come, unriddle this. 



THE FIRST PART 109 

THE FIRST CRUSADER 

You know me plain and blunt, sir. When we fared 
Forth from your presence — 

CONRAD 

Ay, I mind the time. 

THE JESTER 

And so do I. It was just three years ago, 
When first the little voices of the birds 
Carolled the dawn of spring-time. 

CONRAD 

Silence, fool. 

THE JESTER 

If all the fools kept silence, this grave world 
Would nod with dreary wisdom. 

CONRAD 

Sirrah, peace. 

THE JESTER 

Ay, peace to all this joyful Christmas-tide. 

CONRAD 

Proceed. 

THE FIRST CRUSADER 

We journeyed bravely, prayerfully 
Across the frowning Alps. We came at last 
To where the sunny seashore of the South 



110 A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

Blooms like the coasts of Heaven. In the port 
From whence the Christian navies held their way 
Unto that happy strand which Our Dear Lord 
Blest with His holy feet, we for a while 
Were brought to rest. Young Walter, till that time 
Faithful and brave, — 

WALTER 

You see, my lord, he is honest - 
Honest as you or I. 

CONRAD 

Let him speak on; 
Then answer thou at large. 

THE FIRST CRUSADER 

In that soft clime 
Of flowers and languor, where the smooth-limbed girls 
Laugh like the soulless gods of ancient days 
That lured old Romans Hell-ward, Walter fell 
Asleep one day in the sunshine. — 

WALTER 

And therewith 
Thawed my chill veins. Here in the frozen North 
They had been conduits only of such humours 
As make thin saints unearthly. 

CONRAD 

How now, Walter! 



THE FIRST PART 111 

WALTER 

He speaks the truth. 

CONRAD 

Truth! 

THE FIRST CRUSADER 

Truth, sir, — naked truth! 
And from that sleep he wakened as you see him, 
Unsouled, a thing of earth. I pleaded with him. 
He laughed. I chided, minding how that you 
Had given to my years the charge of him, 
Unskilled as yet in warfare and the world. 
Whereat he laughed again. And when at last 
The thrilling trumpets blared the summons out 
To gird us for our passage, he — your son 
That should have leaped our leader, — 



CONRAD 



Well, sir?— Well? 



THE FIRST CRUSADER 

Vanished, we knew not whither. 

WALTER 

Till ye came 
And found me there to greet you, faring back 
Warworn and solemn. 

THE FIRST CRUSADER 

Even so, my lord ; 



112 A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

For when our prows butted the sun-drenched quays 
Of Christendom again, we heard a laugh 
Greeting our very names. And looking down 
Amid the salty cordage, saw the form 
That stands before you here. 

WALTER 

But not thus bound!— 
Nor yet all free, for round my neck there hung 
The cool arm of a lass — I never knew 
Her name — whose merry eyes did then outshine 
The radiance of the morning. 

THE FIRST CRUSADER 

With her like — 

WALTER 

Ay, there were others — others fair as she. 

THE FIRST CRUSADER 

He had outspent the hours, the months, the years 
In wanton dalliance. And we the while 
Had fronted countless perils — of the sea, 
Cold, hungry, surging; ay, and of parched sands 
That scorched with flameless fire ; of battle, too, 
Upholding with our lives the Oriflamme; — 
For our deep vows had held us consecrate 
To Christ, Our Lord. 



THE FIRST PART 113 

THE JESTER 

Who is the Prince of Peace; — 
Remember that, father, — the Prince of Peace. 

CONRAD 

Peace, fool; let Walter answer. 

THE JESTER 

He keeps peace, 
Setting you all example. 

CONRAD 

Walter, hast 
Thou nothing to reply? 

WALTER 

Nothing that ye 
Can understand, who hold that Prince of Peace 
A vengeful master, shadowing all the world 
With gray commandment. 

THE SECOND CRUSADER 

Even thus, my lord, 
He jeered our holy warfare. 

WALTER 

In the name 
Of heavenly peace, ye clothed in stiffening steel 
These limbs God made for freedom. And the voice 
Of heavenly peace ye stifled with alarums; 
And for the sake of heavenly peace assaulted 



114 A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

The peace wherewith those far-off lands were blest 
That harmed you not. 

CONRAD 

Not harmed us! — When the tomb 
Wherein awhile His hallowed bones abode 
Who gave His life for ours, lay subject to 
Infidel conquest! 

WALTER 

Think you fire and sword 
Can root again in that abandoned grave 
The tree of Life? 

THE THIRD CRUSADER 

With blasphemies like these 
He jeered our holy warfare ! 

WALTER 

If your Prince 
Of Peace proclaim such war, he is not for me! — 
Hold me not coward! I would dare engage 
With any that lift hand against ourselves; 
But them that harm us not I rather would 
Leave to their joys. 

CONRAD 

Sharing their godlessness? 

WALTER 

Ay, if you will. 



THE FIRST PART 115 

conrad, rising" 
Down, Walter, to thy knees ! 
Crave pardon both of us and of our God, 
Before this image of the Crucified ! 

WALTER 

I see not with your eyes. — Let bloodless lips 

Of painted saints that sadden altars kiss 

Those earth-stained feet. I am wiser. — When the sun 

Kindled the veins of the Spring, and happy girls 

Laughed with the mating birds, there came to me 

Another message than your mystic spells, 

Unriddling eternity. — "Joy! Joy!" 

Cried every voice of Nature, "so your joy 

Leave others joyous too; for by and by 

We fall asleep together. While ye wake 

Let life thrill all your being !" — So again 

I tell you all, if He whose downcast eyes 

Ye call divine bid me disdain old earth, 

Shunning her joys, wedding her sorrows, — ay, 

And in His name breeding new sorrows, too, 

Wherever He casts His shadow, — let Him work 

His will even how He will. I bow not to 

Such deity as His! 

A pause. 

CONRAD 

Lord, I thank Thee 



116 A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

That Thou hast taken to Thy sheltering bliss 
The saint that bore this recreant ! — Open wide 
The gates there! — From my heart I cast him out 
That was my son and heir ! 

THE JESTER 

Leaving thyself, 
Father, no hairs save these that frost thy chin? 

CONRAD 

Crack thou thy jests ! They shall not crack my heart 
For all his emptiness. — Let one or two 
Of you thrust from our doors this craven thing, 
That once we deemed the vessel of our hopes 
Upon the seas of the future. 

WALTER 

I will go 
Unthrust. Lay no hand on me. 

So they make way, silent; and Walter passes out. 

CONRAD 

Gentlemen, 
Think not because this luckless hap hath come 
To me that I would have your Christmas-tide 
Go cheerless. Still that feast is spread above 
Where each of you hath place. There merriment 
Shall rule our jolly night, and ye shall hear 
Me laugh with the loudest. There is stuff in me 



THE SECOND PART 117 

Shall shame that devil back to gaping Hell 

Who tempts us dim the radiance of this night, 

Made glorious with the coming of Our Lord, 

For earthy sorrow. — Good lieutenant, thou 

Shalt walk with me. — Strike up the music there! 

So the Herald sounds his trumpet; and presently thereafter 
begins the Chorus. And so, led by Conrad and the First 
Crusader, all proceed to the hall above. 



THE SECOND PART 

And in the hall above they sit them down and feast; in the 
midst qf which feasting there is merrymaking, songs and 
the like. And when at last the feast draws to a close the 
Herald, rising, sounds a call. And when the company grow 
quiet, he speaks: 

THE HERALD 

Now listen to the words our ancient lord 
Would speak to all together. 

THE JESTER 

Saving one, 
Alas! 

CONRAD 

Name thou not him ! Or else go crack 
Thy jests to howling winter! — Gentlemen, 
Ye have made merry with me, stout of heart, 
Forgetting, one and all, the frost that came 



118 A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

To blight our bud of hope. So merrily 

Let us all onward where the swordsmen wait 

To wield in play such weapons as your strength 

Made fearful, used in earnest. Merrily 

The hours have passed ; merrily let them pass, 

Till, brightly as the heavenly angels shone 

Before the wondering shepherds long ago, 

Shall glow through every portal of our home 

The hallowed dawn of Christmas. — Sound a march ! 

And thereupon the Herald sounds his call; and the music 
strikes up. And so, quitting' the feast, the company make 
their way to the great hall above. 



THE THIRD PART 

In which uppermost hall they range themselves, some on seats 
and benches about the walls, some standing about the en- 
trance, leaving a space in the midst of all for the sports. 
And when Conrad has seated himself on his dais, with the 
Jester by him, and the Bearer of the Cross, and the Herald, 
the sports begin, a sword-dance and the like, as long as 
may be. Then by and by there comes from them about the 
entrance a jeering cry. And when the dancers stop their 
dance to listen, voices are heard merrily shouting. 

A VOICE 

There he runs. 

ANOTHER VOICE 

Stop his way there. 



THE THIRD PART 119 

A THIRD VOICE 

Ha ! Ha ! Caught again. 

And those about the door join in the laugh. 

a clown, without, whimpering 
For God's sake, merry sirs, let me go, — let me in. 

CONRAD 

Who interrupts our revels ? 

the third crusader, who is by the doorway 
An it please you, 
Here comes some quaking clown would force his way 
Into your presence, whom we gently stop. 

the clown, without) howling 
Wrench not mine elbow again, good gentlemen. I will 
say whatever ye will, God save us all. 

THE JESTER 

Now if that be not the voice of mine own brother it is 
that of one as stout and steadfast. Prithee, father, bid him 
welcome. 

CONRAD 

This is some pastime. Let the fellow in. 

So, with laughter, those about the door thrust forward the 
Clown, a country fellow >, who trembles and rubs his arm, 
which they, in their play, have twisted. 

the jester, coming forward to meet him 
Art thou indeed my brave big brother? 



120 A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

THE CLOWN 

Will they wrench mine arm again, sweet sir, if I make 
answer? 

THE JESTER 

Not they, 'faith ; here 's my hand on 't. 

THE CLOWN 

Nay; — with your kind, excellent leave, nay. — Twas 
thus they beguiled me without. — And as for thy brother- 
hood, who knows? — save that on the mother's side it can- 
not be, mine being Joan the milkmaid, that died bearing me 
at fifteen, God rest her soul. I would we were all with her. 

THE JESTER 

So do not I; for o' winter nights I love warmer cheer. 
Instance this horn of wine. Pledge us, brother; for beyond 
peradventure we are brethren in Father Adam. 

the clown, starting to drink, and dropping the horn for 
trembling 
O Lord ! Here is a merry Christmas indeed ! 

THE JESTER 

Expound to us, brother, the special cause of thy jovial 
merriment. 

THE CLOWN 

Nay, that I am feared to do since they twisted mine 
elbow without there for bidding them all save themselves 
while yet there is time. 



THE THIRD PART 121 

THE JESTER 

This reverend man is plainly some Puritan preacher of 
the Word, come that he may exhort us all to salvation. 

THE CLOWN 

Now it is that same salvation, look you, from which I 
would bid you all save yourselves, save that ye bid me not. 
For having fed me in the kitchen below, I was e'en making 
my way home as best I might, being led astray with good 
cheer; and then did I see him; and so came stumbling back 
to warn you. 

THE JESTER 

The misty terms of our reeling earth, good brother, do 
something obscure the heavenly vision which hath struck 
the scales from thine eyes. Tell us, then, whom thou dost 
mean, saying "him." 

THE clown 
Nay, that ye shall never have from me; for they twisted 
mine arm in the stair when I came out of breath with 
shouting how there is an armed man riding fast down upon 
you who have laid down your arms. 

CONRAD 

An armed man? What mean you? 

the second crusader, coming swiftly from without, 
through the press 

Good my lord, 



122 A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

This quaking carle hath reason. Close at hand 

A steely foe comes stealing through the night 

To break our Christmas peace. 

At the which word the company murmur, surprised and 
wroth. 

THE CLOWN 

Now will I run hide myself in the cellar; and such of 
you as dread salvation had best do the like. 

And so he runs out. 

CONRAD 

And who shall dare 
Intrude him thus upon us? 

THE SECOND CRUSADER 

To the gate, 
Where I kept watch, came riding one who bore 
Message from one I would not name tonight 
Save that he names himself — thine enemy 
And neighbour, Philip. 

the herald, who has passed to the doorway 
Here is one, my lord, 
Who claims his right to parley, in the name 
Of stout Lord Philip. 

And therewith boldly enters the Messenger of Philip. 

CONRAD 

Dares Lord Philip send — 



THE THIRD PART 123 

He whom the years have proven more and more 
Marrer of all that seems to me God's will — 
Message to me seasoning our Christmas cheer 
With salt of earthy business? 

THE MESSENGER 

Even so, 
Most honoured Conrad; ay, and dares entrust him 
To that nobility which you have held 
Through all these years of conflict. Here I come 
Unarmed, with message not of enmity, 
Unless yourself so find it. 

THE FIRST CRUSADER 

Give the word, 
My lord, and we will serve this fellow as 
His manners warrant. 

CONRAD 

He stands in our house, 
Unguarded, in the semblance of a guest. — 
Stay in your places. — (To the Messenger.) Speak your tid- 
ings out; 
We will give answer. 

THE MESSENGER 

Philip, noble sir, 
Bids me commend him to you, urging first 
How through the years of feud which ye have waged — 
Ye and your fathers — one against the other, 



124 A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

No tongue so loose hath ever yet been found 
To stain the fame of either. Honestly 
Each has maintained his quarrel. 

CONRAD 

This is true. 

THE MESSENGER 

Therefore, at this sweet season, when throughout 
Both Heaven and earth glad tidings of good-will 
Do spread them, he holds hope that from henceforth 
Your honest enmity may turn itself 
To friendship just as honest. 

CONRAD 

That shall be 
Even as he will. Let him but satisfy 
Our claim upon those lands his grandsire seized 
When ours lay sleeping, and the enmities 
Of all these years shall fade. 

THE MESSENGER 

And that shall be, 
Most honoured sir, even as yourself shall will. 

CONRAD 

He knows my will. 

THE MESSENGER 

He knew it, as it stood 



THE THIRD PART 125 

Before this grief came on you in the which 
He shares your sorrow. — 

CONRAD 

Cease thy mocking speech, 
Injurious fellow! 

THE MESSENGER 

Nay, sir, you mistake. 
Here is no mockery. My masters heart 
Goes out to you this widowed Christmas-tide 
Which finds you heirless. 

CONRAD 

Heirless ! 

THE MESSENGER 

He has heard 
The story of young Walter, — ay, and how 
You played the Roman. Wherefore, in the place 
Of that dishonest boy, he bids me offer 
Himself to be your heir. 

THE SECOND CRUSADER 

Now, by the saints, 
This rudeness goes too far. 

CONRAD 

Assail him not! — 
If I have caught thee right, thy master, Philip, 
Will make his peace with me, if only I 



126 A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

Will grant that he, thy master, when my time 
Shall come, may enter here, as lord of all. 

THE MESSENGER 

And so, most honoured sir, in harmony 

Those jars should blend wherewith throughout the years 

Our country has been vexed. 

CONRAD 

Well, tell thy master 
I have no need for heirs. That heir I had 
Has proved too little solace in mine age 
To make me yearn for more. 

THE JESTER 

The old lion rouses. 
There is mettle in him yet. 

CONRAD 

Ay, so there is. — 

Tell that to Philip, too. — If that the mind 

Should take me to provide myself against 

The hour of my parting, never an heir 

His courtesy would choose me should so serve 

My turn, but there is mettle in me yet 

To get a better. 

At the which word the company laugh, deriding' the Mes- 
senger, and the Jester, coming forward with a cup of 
wine, greets him, mocking. 



THE THIRD PART 127 

THE JESTER 

Brother, pray you drink 
A cup with me before you part, for sure 
We two are fellow fools. 

the messenger, putting the Jester aside 
Since ye thus flout 
His friendship, know that Philip, my liege lord, 
Is wiser than ye hold him. He hath sent 
Another message too, foreseeing how 
This might fall out. 

CONRAD 

Speak it. — In form thou still 
Art here our Christmas guest. 

THE MESSENGER 

He bids you, then, 
Defend yourselves as best ye may. About 
Your castle walls his force draws close, wherewith 
He comes to seize that which ancestral law 
Proclaims his own. For when a noble house 
Ends childless, then the custom of our land 
Gives their possessions to the fostering care 
Of him whose fiefs lie nearest. 

THE FIRST CRUSADER 

Good my lord, 
We are come in happier hour than we knew. 



128 A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

These arms we bear, blest in the holy wars 
Of Palestine, shall still do service, ere 
They rust in lazy drowsing. 

THE MESSENGER 

Look without, 
Before ye boast too high. For every soldier 
Warm with his Christmas wassail here, there come 
Three men at arms in Philip^s bold array. 
Ay, and his van, while we were parleying, 
Hath stolen into your very court. 

CONRAD 

What ho! 

Ye by the casement — speaks this fellow true? 

So they by the casement throw it open, and therewith, 
from the court without, comes a great shout of' mocking 
defiance. 

THE SECOND CRUSADER 

They are upon us! 

CONRAD 

Seize this shifty knave 
Who dared beguile while his thieves stole in, 
Cloaked in his parlous parley! 

crusaders, surrounding the Messenger, threatening 

Cut him down! — 
Have at him ! 



THE THIRD PART 129 

THE MESSENGER 

I appeal to Conrad here; 
I am unarmed. 

CONRAD 

And therefore shall our arms, 
Washed pure with blood drawn in the glorious cause 
Of Jesu Christ, stay stainless of those jellies 
That clog thy veins. — Put up your weapons there. — 
And one of you go tell this fellow's master, 
Who waits below craving admittance to 
Our presence, that our pleasure is that he 
Still wait. So, if he rudely force himself 
Upon us, he may chance to find his way 
Blocked with bobbing carcass of his henchman, 
Whom we thereon shall hang, to grace our portal 
In lieu of arras. 

THE THIRD CRUSADER 

That dishonest foe 
Shall have his message straightway. 

So he goes out, swiftly. 

CONRAD 

Let one bring me 
Those trusty arms wherewith in elder days, 
When these my limbs were stoutly bold, as still 
Ye shall find my rising heart, I blithely rode 
To chanting victory. Though mine eyes be dim 



130 A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

For all the petty uses of this world, 
There is in them yet a fire shall dazzle those 
That, facing me, shall see their glancing flash 
Beneath my dented beaver. 

THE JESTER 

Father, ere 
The flood-tide of thy wisdom rise and whelm 
This little bay of peace, where we have rode 
So buoyant, waiting Christmas, prithee, mark 
Some ebbings of my folly. 

conrad, while they bring arms, and he dons them 
Merrily 
I have shared your feast; and merrily, ye see, 
I gird me now to lead you. Merriment 
Hath place here still. Speak on. 

From without comes a disturbance, as of angry murmur. 

THE SECOND CRUSADER 

Lord Philip's men 
Hear now our merry message. 

THE JESTER 

To the which 
I speak sad epilogue. Our Blessed Lord, 
Who feasts tonight on high, can work His will 
Despite us troublous men. His reverend ways 
May teach us all, amid these haps of earth, 



THE THIRD PART 131 

Lessons shall shrink your wisest wisdoms here 
To follies weak as mine. 

CONRAD 

Why, that is sure. — 
Buckle my belt more tightly. Do not fear 
To pull. — But what of that, most pregnant fool? 

THE JESTER 

Why, even this : that glorious Lord hath deigned 
To summon hence our mistress, — 

CONRAD 

Blessing us 
With a most sainted bedesman, who on high 
Shall pray our ventures onward. 

THE JESTER 

And He hath deigned 
Mysteriously to cut that chain whereof 
Thyself, last link, art powerless to bind 
The clanking past to the future. Were we not 
Best, then, to bow ourselves unto His will 
Submissive? For that Christmas dawns apace 
When His sweet word hath bidden us adore Him, 
The Prince of Peace. 

CONRAD 

And who shall say but Peace 
Hovers above our banners? — Gentlemen, 



132 A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

Even as I dreamed my faint infirmities 

Gave warrant that I rest, so your brave selves 

Perchance have dreamt that those most gallant toils 

Wherefrom ye are returned were all that God 

Had need for from you. Yet we both together 

Must fight this one fight more, for His sweet sake 

Who would not have His Christmas dawn anew 

Dimmed here with misty warfare. Tonic steel 

Nerves once again my sinews, till your own 

Scarce knot them stouter; and mine age-bleared eyes 

Turn eagle's as they sink their vision deep 

In those infinities of quivering light 

That swim before the purposes of God. 

She that was erst my comfort here below 

Kneels by His throne, to guard his ear against 

Distracting prayers from other, lesser saints, 

Proving our loss our blessing. That lewd boy, 

Our only craven, hath been plucked away 

Both from our hearts and presence. So our arms, 

Sure in the certainty of heavenly right, 

Shall find their strength full trebled when they lift 

Its power against aggression. 

the third crusader, swiftly entering 
Philip, sir, 
Prepares him to enforce his claim. 



THE THIRD PART 133 

THE SECOND CRUSADER 

Why, then 
His henchman shall go hang. 

CONRAD 

Stop! — Guard the stair! — 

And let us, ere we lift a single hand 

To enforce our justice, bend our reverent heads 

Before the God of Battles. — To your knees! 

So all kneel them down. 

Divine Protector of Eternal Right, 

Have mercy on their souls, whose lives this hour 

Of combat shall unbody. By Thy side 

Kneels now our sainted lady. Let her voice, 

Low, sweet, and clear, — even as these quavering notes 

That rise from earth sound harsh, — pray that Thou keep 

Us pure of heart throughout this trial to come ; 

So whatsoever means the Mystery 

Of Thine unbounded might shall take to uncoil 

The perils that environ us, not one 

Among us shall breathe any lesser prayer 

Than that we learned of Thee — Thy will be done. 

And thereupon all bow their heads, and the choir sings a 
little while. And when the singing is done, certain Cru- 
saders gather about Philip's Messenger, threatening. 

THE FIRST CRUSADER 

Now, ere we press us forward, give us leave 
To work God's will upon this prisoner, 



134 A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

Who tricked us with his parley. 

CONRAD 

Even so. — 
Sirrah, thy time is come. 

THE MESSENGER 

Do what ye will, 
Ye cannot quell my soul. Beguiling you, 
I did my duty. 

CONRAD 

Hang him ! 

So they lay hands on the Messenger, to hang him. But just 
then there is a confused noise about the door, and pres- 
ently, through the press, Walter, armed, forces his way, 
thrusting aside them that would prevent him. 

WALTER 

Stay your hands ! 

So they that hold the Messenger give way for a moment ; and 
in the confusion, the Messenger escapes. Whereupon the 
Crusaders gather threatening about Walter. But them, 
too, he thrusts aside, saying, 

Come, give me way! 

And so he is before Conrad, where he kneels him down, 
saying, 

Dear father, here I kneel 

To crave unearned indulgence. 

CONRAD 

Craven boy, 



THE THIRD PART 135 

Now thy misdeeds have stirred this tempest up 
Fleest thou to us for shelter? 

Walter, rising- 

Nay, I come 
To purge myself of that un worthiness 
Mine eyes were blind to when the dazzling rays 
Of dalliance danced before them. — Deal with me 
As with the Prodigal that sire of old 
Who took his wanderer back, and thou shalt find me 
Still thine own son, and hers in whose dear name 
I pray this mercy. 

THE JESTER 

Father, my poor folly 
Doth seem to hear in these unwonted words 
An answer to the prayer thou didst breathe out 
A little while ago. 

CONRAD 

Can thy heart so rise 
That thou wouldst fight beside us, child? 

WALTER 

My heart 
Rises so far the higher that, if thou 
Wilt grant the boon, I offer here myself 
Champion for thee and all these gallant men 
Who, while I idled, toiled. 



136 A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

THE THIRD CRUSADER 

This may not be ! 

THE SECOND CRUSADER 

We who have toiled have right to toil us on, 
Where honour is to win ! 

THE FIRST CRUSADER 

Now God forbid 
That you forget how this unreverent youth 
Stirred up these storms that vex our Christmas-tide, 
Not only dallying, but renouncing Him 
Who gave His life for ours. 

walter, kneeling' him down once more 
For the which 
Here, on my knees, I crave the pardon both 
Of ye who heard me rave, and more of Him, 
The First great Champion of all mankind. 
And so he rises up again. 
For when I marked the flood of Philip's force 
Eddy about our walls, another flood 
Unseen washed clear my soul. And I remembered 
What my dear mother taught in years gone by, 
When I was still a little simple boy. 

the jester 
Father, she sendeth answer to thy prayer. 



THE THIRD PART 137 

WALTER 

For she would bid me strive to do for mine 
Even as He hath done for all. — And thus 
I knew His face at last. And thereupon 
I made my way through Philip's mailed men 
Unto his presence, where I pleaded with him 
That ere the Christmas morning gladden earth 
With peace and all good-will, he should draw back 
His armed claim, trusting his cause alone 
To such stout champions as he should choose 
To match their skill with mine. And noble Philip 
Will grant that boon if but thy mercy will 
Grant me that in thy presence here I fight 
With two in turn, and conquer. 

CONRAD 

Gentlemen, 
Ye have heard this weakling boy essay to undo 
His mischiefs. Tell me if ye are content 
To trust yourselves to me. 

THE FIRST CRUSADER 

Ay, even as 
Our fathers and their fathers trusted them 
To you and yours. 

CONRAD 

Truly, I cannot tell 
Whether mine age stays wise. But as the hours 



138 A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

Fleet on that bring the Christmas dawn apace, 
They quicken in my heart a mood that deadens 
All hot desire of bloodshed. If this boy 
Shall win his double fight, all shall have peace. 
And if he fall, and with him all my claim 
To lordship, why, there is none but he and I 
Shall suffer. To the rest comes either way 
The Christmas peace ye toiled for. 

THE FIRST CRUSADER 

Honoured Conrad, 
Think not we shall forsake you. 

CONRAD 

Good lieutenant, 
Ye have trusted you to me. — So I give judgment. — 
Walter, as in the wondrous days of old 
The hosts of Saul set all their chances on 
That shepherd's sling from whose anointed race 
Our Saviour sprang, so now I trust ourselves 
To thine untested arms. — And to the Lord 
I turn me once again, uttering His prayer — 
Thy Will be done! 

THE CRUSADERS 

Amen! 

WALTER 

Father, I give 
Exultant thanks to God. 



THE THIRD PART 139 

the herald, by the door 
The champion 
Of Philip waits without. 

CONRAD 

Summon him in. 

So they usher in the Champion of Philip, who advances, fol- 
lowed by certain suppoHers. And having saluted the com- 
pany, he speaks: 

THE CHAMPION 

Here stand I, Geoffrey, Philip's champion, 
Come to maintain against young Walter, son 
Of Conrad, all the claims my master hath 
Upon these lordships. So I here await 
The signal to begin. 

WALTER 

And here stand I, 
Walter, the son of Conrad, ready to 
Defend against this Geoffrey, champion 
Of Philip, all those rights which from of old 
Prove Philip's claims unrighteous. So, like Geoffrey, 
I here await the signal to begin. 

CONRAD 

Bid them set on. 

THE HERALD 

Now God defend the right ! 



140 A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

So Walter and the Champion engage; and presently after 
a fierce bout, Walter has him down. 

THE CHAMPION 

O, I am slain! 

And thereupon the Crusaders raise a joy fid shout. 

THE JESTER 

Father, the lion's cub 

Proveth himself a lion. 

And now, as amid confusion they that came with the Cham- 
pion bear him oid, Walter is seen to reel. Whereat the 
Crusaders murmur, anxious. 

CONRAD 

Walter, art 
Thou hurt? 

WALTER 

Why, thinkest thou, father, men can fight 
Good fights unscarred? I bleed. 

CONRAD 

My son ! My son ! 
Thou art indeed the son I dreamed should be 
The courage of mine age. 

A trumpet sounds from without. 

WALTER 

Dear father, though 
My body faint, thou, looking in mine eyes, — 
As thou wast wont to do when long ago 



THE THIRD PART 141 

I sat upon thy knee, — shalt see my spirit 
Dreads not this fresh encounter. 

THE FIRST CRUSADER 

Let me take 
His place ! 

THE SECOND CRUSADER 

Let me ! — Thou art old ! 

THE THIRD CRUSADER 

Let me ! — This boy 
Is hurt beyond his strength ! 

WALTER 

Nay, gentlemen, 
Still trust yourselves to me. It takes much blood 
To pay for basking idle in the sun. 
The sin was mine, not yours; the debt is mine; 
And I will pay it. 

THE HERALD 

Philip, noble sir, 
Advances now his second champion. 

THE SECOND CRUSADER 

Bring wine! 

THE FIRST CRUSADER 

Bring water! — Walter reels with faintness! 

WALTER 

0, let not any liquors of this world 



142 A CHRISTMAS MASQUE 

Profane me now. But, father, let me kneel 

Once more before thee. Rest thy reverend hand 

In blessing on my head; and if thou deign 

Give that refreshment which my soul most craves 

Beyond all else, advance again that image 

I once disdained, of Him who gave His life 

For all mankind. 

So Conrad signs to him that bears the Cross, who presently 
advances. And as Walter kneels before it, adoring, Conrad 
lays his hand on Walter's head tenderly. 

CONRAD 

God's blessing on thee, child. 

the herald, at the door 

Make way for Philip's second Champion ! 

Then, instead of the trumpet, which announced the first Cham- 
pion, is heard the sound of a harp. To the which gentle 
music, as the company part, to make way for the new 
Champion to advance, there enters a little Child, robed in 
white, and bearing a casket, whereon rests a sprig of olive. 
And to the harp-music the little Child timidly advances to 
Conrad, saying no word, but looking up trustfully at last, 
and so offers him the casket. The which Conrad takes, in 
wonder; and opening it, draws forth a scroll. 

CONRAD 

Mine eyes are dim with age, I cannot read 
The message writ here. Walter, who shalt be 
Myself again when I am gone, I pray thee 
Be now myself a little while, and read. 



THE THIRD PART 143 

WALTER 

Alas, dear father, all the world doth reel 
Before mine eyes; I cannot see to read. 

THE JESTER 

Why, then there is nothing left but that you give 
The scroll to me. For these fair gentlemen 
Who press about us are not learned clerks 
Like you — and me. 

So he takes the scroll and reads. 

"Philip doth send to Conrad 
A Christmas greeting of good- will and peace. — 

Forasmuch as the gallant deed of young Walter hath 
proved him beyond peradventure so fit for his heirship, let 
us agree that from this Christmas dawn all feud between 
us shall die. And let that death of enmity be the last death 
wrought in our quarrels ; for thus shall we serve God best." 
Then turning to the company, the Jester speaks on. 

Now even as at night I came to you like one falling from 
Heaven to earth, so now as the morning beginneth to glow 
I soar before you like one rising back from earth toward 
Heaven. Therefore it is fit that I speak you all your Christ- 
mas greeting: Glory to the Lord on High; and on earth 
Peace, Good- will towards men. — And so, let the music 
swell. 

And thereupon the singers begin their last chant. And when 
this is finished, the company part, however they will. And 
so all ends. 



OCT 9 1902 



OCT 



1902 



